Highlight of a conversation I had with the youngest gel this morning: “I don’t care what was in the Advent calendar today, you’re not having a chocolate and caramel Santa for breakfast!”

It seems to me that Advent calenders stuffed with little treats rayther miss the point of the season.  They ought to contain little slips of paper offering inspirational passages for contemplation or perhaps suggesting gentle acts of penance.  It could be made clear that treats would be doled out, say, Christmas Eve depending on how faithful one was at keeping up such activities.

But then again, the little blighters would probably ignore the whole biznay, reckoning they’ll get treats come Christmas anyway, so why bother with the extra work?

Speaking of work, congratulations to Groovy Vic, whose Christmas card was the first one to hit the port-swiller mailbox this year.  (Yes, I thought it funny – especially the Gymboree joke.)  As for Self, I am horrible about this particular holiday task.  Even though Mrs. R procured my special stack of cards (for all my imaginary blog friends) before Thanksgiving, I’m sure I will once again be scrambling madly on December 23 to get them out.