My Grown-Up Christmas Wish

I'm behind in blogging again. Today you'll get several entries to catch up. Before I was a grown-up, I had NO idea why my mom always wanted something we couldn't buy her. I always wanted something quick and painless I could buy her easily at a store, I didn't want something I had to spend endless hours creating or doing that was, honestly, hours upon hours of work.

Now that I'm a mom, I understand why my mom wants a gift like that. It's because I can buy myself my own gift like that. I understand that what  my mom wanted was "one day where none of you fight" or "one day of peace and quiet" or "one day where no one messes anything up" (although, I also understand that those days come when we all move out of the house and live away from home, sometimes very, very far away from home, or as she said when David died, all she wished was one day where there was something more to wash or one more shoe to pick up.) As Trace Adkins said, "You're gonna miss this."

Being married to a Phippen means that I get to ask for the same thing multiple years in a row and I get to be delighted when I receive it many times. Here's the best Phippen gift ever. If you have never been a Phippen, you won't understand. It's OK. It's MY Christmas, and you can not understand from afar.

This is an empty garage with my car inside of it. It's at my house. It's a pretty fine Christmas gift. This same garage holds two cars.

John and Jack emptied the garage for me, and Jack was even more pleased that I had "Facebooked" his Christmas present service project. He told his dad that it must be pretty special if I had told people on Facebook that he had helped. I guess it's really only a gift if you get credit on Facebook. Take note: service in secret must not count.