Christmas Day.

What can I say, but Merry Christmas. My daughter Olivia was amazingly patient. She maintained self control amidst a room full of wrapped gifts, while waiting for the rest of the family to arrive so she could open her presents. When there's a two year old involved, every member of the Fam wants to enjoy the expressions on her face as well as hear her little voice exclaim, "oh my!" and "maybe Santa got this for me?" My little girl was adorable, running around in her brand new Barbie ballet outfit. I can't believe she came from the Nelson stock. She spent her morning casually opening packages, spending quality time with each and every item so as not to make one toy more jealous than the other.

Stewart, on the other hand, was gleefully drooling and cooing as only a six month old enjoying his first Christmas would. My father, as to be expected, fell asleep on the couch. My mom spent most of the morning kissing on Stewie.

We feasted on quiche, New Zealand sausages and a lovely fruit salad (can I descride a salad as lovely and still sound masculine?). Seriously, what a yummy brunch. I could be very happy making that the new family tradition.

I'm a very blessed man.