All I Want . . .

I learned the g'babes have asked Santa for magic gloves that will enable their wishes when they wave their hands. For example, they could stand in their room, wave their hands wearing the magic gloves, and their room would magically be cleaned, neat, and orderly.

Y'know, I can do a lot of cool things on my sewing machines, but I'm thinking I can't do magic gloves!

Friday was our department holiday lunch and I told the magic glove story to a colleague who got a pair of "Magic Gloves"—really!—in the Winter Basket he won at the company party. (More on that tomorrow.)

We were talking about the power of belief—"I believe these gloves are magic" and therefore they are. He said Ty and Jaci could tell the children that the gloves were magic but had to be trained. So if you clean your room every day for a year wearing the magic gloves, the gloves will then be trained and will do the cleaning automatically. If you miss one day, you have to start the training period over again. It takes 365 consecutive days of doing something for the gloves to be trained.

You think it will work? I think it's magic all right—a magic way for the parents to get something done on a regular basis.

I think it was an inspired suggestion!

I arrived home at 11:00 last night after our final holiday pops concert. Boston greeted me at the door, wide awake. He said he had been putting things on the tree. (His mom was having girls' night out with Lucy, his sister had fallen asleep on the couch, and his dad was upstairs, asleep in the recliner.)

As Boston was helping me get all my things upstairs, he said, "I put a reminder note on the tree. I wrote one in cursive and one in block printing in case Santa can only read one kind of writing. I told him I hope he didn't forget the magic gloves."

(Have I mentioned that my grandchildren are precious?!)