In keeping with our routine Sunday afternoon lunchtime dialogue, I asked, "Tyler, what did you learn in your class this morning?"
"Oh, I had crackers. And stickers."
"And did you listen to a story?"
"Yes, I listened to a story about a baby in a tunnel for babies."
"Oh, really? Who is the baby?" (I could narrow my guesses, this Sunday before Christmas.)
"Baby Jesus. He was born in a hospital, and the horses were so sad, but Baby Jesus was so happy."
And then he said something about a puppy, and six o'clock, and neither Robb nor I could manage that one. Even Tucker said, "I'm not sure what he's saying, Mommy. And Jesus was born in a stable. With Baby Jesus."
(I'm not sure how many babies are presnt in Tucker's version.)
In such settings, Tucker whispers to me out of the side of his mouth, as if we are in kahootz in our superior knowledge over the present toddler.
And then Tyler said, "And it's almost Christmas Eve. Mae Mae and Grandpa are coming from Chicago, and then it will be Christmas. Did you know they're coming here in the sky, like reindeer?"
(Not exactly true, since they are not even flying in a plane. They are driving. But it's more fun to picture them managing reins and a sack full of presents.)
To this, Tucker lit up. He may be down with the stable story, but this idea of grandparents in the sky? Now, that's a whole new ball game.
I think someday I shall miss these details when their Christmas is filled with much greater clarity.
This is the best year yet for the happiest season of all.