The post-script

It should be noted that we chose to serve ham as our primary protein due to our kids’ usual reluctance to eat roasted bird, and it should be noted also that both boys decided to turn their noses up at the ham yesterday and instead eat from the small Rock Cornish hen we got just to satisfy my inner traditionalist’s need to have at least a little fowl on the table. Hmmph. On the other hand, what they really enjoyed was the green beans (Gabe) and the carrots (Sam). That’s satisfying.

Most popular with Gabe, though, was what he smelled as he woke from his nap before dinner. Eric was preparing the brussels sprouts, which he served with (among other things) finely chopped bacon. Gabe scented that bacon like, well:

It was a thing of beauty, watching him nearly fall down the stairs, trying to get to Eric’s outstretched hand that held the plate of bacon; he grabbed with both fists, trying to stuff it all into his mouth before Eric took the bulk of it away. This morning, as an apology for having to do that, Eric made bacon and eggs for breakfast, and Gabe was satisfied…almost. At the mall, later, a meat and sausage kiosk ran out of bacon samples before Gabe got there, leaving nothing but aroma for him. He confided his misery to a woman in the perfume store, and when I mock-sighed that bacon for breakfast just wasn’t enough, he suddenly yelled, “BACOOOOOOOON!” at the top of his lungs, nearly making her fall down in giggles.

Tomorrow: the tree!