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Dear Santa...
What One Dad Hopes for This Christmas
By Mark Stackpole
Right now, their naptimes are exactly opposite, which often means that we only have to directly supervise one of them. Of course, it also means that in order to honor naptime, we never actually get to leave the house. At night, Lucas is able to sleep through the night, but he has made it clear on several occasions that he simply prefers not to. He enjoys a midnight snifter of fine formula while reviewing the day's events in a voice loud enough to wake the dead. Or at least his sister, who doesn't so much "sleep" as she does "collapse" after a full day of park exploring, trike-riding, cooking, home-redecorating and taking care of her little brother. She shows her sisterly concern by waiting until he goes to sleep, and then yelling his name ("GOOOO-KUS!") at the top of her lungs, thus waking him up, thereby requiring her to bust into his room and rescue him from his distress ("Awwww, Goo-kus crying!"). Soon after, Daddy begins crying as well.
So, yeah, sleep would be great. I'll hit you up for the big TV next year.
By the way, you may notice something different about the Stackpole house this year. Don't be alarmed if the tree is only decorated above the 4-foot mark. Anything below that mark will either be eaten, broken, thrown or simply disappear. Corinne likes to hug things until they break, much like a smaller and smarter Lenny from Of Mice and Men. Lucas just likes to taste anything within his reach. The dogs are chewers. We lost a few ornaments last year. Some were broken, and another turned up in an old pair of my shoes. In March. I blame Corinne, though I suppose it is remotely possible that the dogs took a break from eating tinsel to stash it for later. And you should have seen the "packages" those tinsel-eating dogs left in the backyard. Very festive indeed.
