Call 911. I want to turn myself in. My name is Joanne and I am an ornament-felon. My children will be including this sordid chapter of their childhood in their autobiography one day.
It’s a tradition in our home that each child hangs their own special ornaments. The older you get, the more ornaments you have made and collected over the years. So, it is very important to our younger children that they have their own to hang too.
Samuel is our youngest. When it came time to hand him one of his special ornaments he savored the moment. Carefully he walked to the tree, not wanting to drop the treasure he gently carried. Turning it over in his hand he read aloud, “Baby’s 1st Christmas” He softly said, then immediately blurted out, “Hey Mom, this isn’t me!?”
He was right, and for seven years mommy has yet to print a teeny tiny picture to put in Samuel’s ornament. I tried to convince him, “Oh, honey…are you sure that isn’t you? It sure does look like you.” It looks nothing like him.
Am I the only one who has pictures of complete strangers adorned in ornaments on her tree? Am I the only mother trying to convince her blonde-haired green-eyed son that he used to be a Hispanic, brown-eyed baby? Am I the only ornament-felon at-large?
In case you happen to know who this darling little boy is in the picture ornament above, please let his family know he will be spending his seventh Christmas at our house.
Originally posted December 2008
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