This morning she asked me at least 3 times why I read the letter she wrote to Santa. I did as I usually do, and dodged the question 3 times.
On the 4th inquiry, I said, "Claire, I want you to think about your question a minute before you ask again."
She didn't ask.
On her Santa list was The Elf. I told her our Elf was in surgery and wouldn't be able to make it this year (he's actually packed and stored somewhere in Arizona). She asked me how I knew this.
This is how I know, Claire:
his brand-spanking-new coworker told me.
Claire, when you read his in 30 years, I want you to know that I never could have stomached this purchase and all the extra crazies it will give me if I didn't REALLY, REALLY, REALLY love you.
I do.
You are my girl.
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