The house is quiet. June and Maggie have just stumbled back into the bedroom, but there's no sign of waking from Zoey. She was up late last night, maybe 10:30pm before she fell asleep, so I'm sure she's tired. Still, what kind of kid sleeps away Christmas morning? The best kind, I'll tell you that. There's snow on the ground, only the second batch this year, and more timely than ever. I slept on a bed with no sheets last night because I was too tired to make it, and because June was too busy to talk some sense into a dreary, but delighted, Dad. It felt like I was in college. This is the second Christmas in this house...and Maggie's first ever. She can't stop talking about it this morning, and when she laid between us she locked eyes with her bleary eyed father and smiled...and smiled, and smiled. My God we're lucky people. What kind of people on this planet end up as absolutely blessed as we are? The best kind , I try to tell myself. My own little Christmas gift to myself. The best kind.