That moment when your kindergartner wakes you up because Santa has come and you pad out in your socked feet just hoping to grab a cup of coffee before the paper-shredding begins and then you see something peeking in your front door and you knit your brows, puzzled, but it’s followed immediately by a delighted grin because whatever it is, you can tell it’s just plain magic.
And you all run to the door and there’s a pet reindeer with a wreath around his neck and he wants to come in because it’s cold outside and he’s been waiting there on the porch for hours and he’s eager to get on with the merry task of being your new pet.
And you don’t know how or who but you don’t care because it’s magic and magic it shall be.
P. S. If you know an inexpensive supplier of reindeer moss, a friendly large-animal vet or a lonely female reindeer with a good set of upper points, please write to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. That’s a reference to this post, btw, whereupon my son asks Santa for a pet reindeer.
Wishing a little of the real magic of Christmas to each and every one of you.
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