Let's just say it had not been a good day.
Traffic was horrible. I was running late, very late.
Two meetings at work went long — very long.
I didn't even have a chance to eat. Can you imagine that?
So, let's say I was tense. Let's also say I was in a mood when I got home.
But two little boys were not. They were in a pretty good mood, actually — over-the-top excited about Christmas and staring at a winter village scene my wife had just put together under the tree.
Every little house. Every little person. Every little skater. Every little light.
They just stared and giggled.
Told me to get down on the floor with them and marvel at it.
They usually run about 80 miles an hour. At four and five years of age, that's the norm. But this day, this moment, they just sat and they wanted me to sit with them.
To stop everything and look and marvel. And maybe to forget the traffic and the long meetings and the incredible delays. To forget all that and focus on some inanimate objects in a pretend world that right this moment looked like a pretty cozy world.
And I thought to myself, they got the season.
And for once, these little boys forced me to focus on what was important. And this day, what was not.
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