The Daily Detour

Can we say "booty" in heaven?

"Mom, I think they [our neighbors] already know about Jesus. Because their Daddy told them not to say 'booty' too!"

This is the comment that my 6-year-old son, Caleb, made to Jean on Sunday evening, when trying to determine whether the two little neighbor girls whose family we had invited to church were Christians. After I stopped laughing at his innocent attempt to try to identify the benchmarks of Christianity (I don't actually recall the designation of "booty" in the Apostle's Creed), his observation caused me to do some more serious reflection on this whole idea of Christian behavior.

What are the benchmarks that designate Christians? What should they be? Does it matter if there is variance in understanding the answers to such questions? These are some of the questions that I began to think about.

A few months ago, I had one of our readers contact me and ask me to weigh in on this issue. For anyone who has spent any time in church (or for anyone who has not, but has watch a lot of Hollywood caricatures of Christians), it seems the benchmarks are the age-old adage, "I don't drink, and I don't chew, and I don't go with girls that do!" Such a laundry list of unacceptable behaviors served as the primary criteria which designated the true Christians from those other "worldly" people. The "don'ts" of morality became the standards of righteousness and holy living--drinking, smoking, dancing, swearing, etc. Thus, Christians achieved the reputation for judgmental bigotry, whether we deserve it or not.

But, I wonder, where would someone like a C.S. Lewis fit in our understanding of what good Christians are supposed, and not supposed to do. After all, he has done as much to advance the Christian faith from the twentieth century on as any of us, and yet, we don't often here references to his well-known penchant for pipes, cigerettes, and a frothy brew at the Eagle and Child pub. And rarely do we see pictures (such as this one here) which pull back the veil on such behaviors. He certainly doesn't fit the preconceived mold of true Christianity, as many Christians have come to define it.

So, what are we to do? The C.S. Lewis's of the Christian faith can leave one in quite a conundrum. But then again, perhaps it helps us understand that perhaps there's more to true Christian living than simply external behavior. God Himself said that it is man which looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). Likewise, Jesus had his harshest words not for the sinners of his day, but rather, for the religious leaders who were experts at putting on the appearances of religious piety. He said,

"Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you: 'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men'" (Matthew 15:7-9)

Does our outward behavior matter? Certainly it does. There are multiple passages in Scripture which lay out God's desire for Christians where behavior is concerned (e.g. The Ten Commandments - Exodus 20, Holy Living - Colossians 3, etc.) And in many cases, Scripture is very specific. For example, in Ephesians 5:4, Paul talks specifically about the importance of eliminating "obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking" from our interactions with others. Not with the intent of somehow creating a bunch of prudish people who wouldn't know fun if it kicked them in the head. On the contrary, the goal in how we live as Christians is to pursue holy living.

For many years, holy living was taken to be the strict "do's and don'ts" from the Bible in a kind of legalistic fashion. But in actually, to be holy is to be "set apart", that is, to live a life that is different and distinct from those around us who are not followers of Christ. This is the idea of being light in a dark world, as Jesus talked about in his Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:13-16). By doing so, we are essentially sending the message that there is indeed something different (and presumably positive) about us--that Christ in our lives does actually bring about a real transformation of beliefs and behaviors. The old is gone and the new has come, as Paul says.

As I've said to various audiences, often the only "Jesus" people will see is you. Thus, it is imperative that those who profess to be followers of Christ, actually get about the business of following Him, to the best of their ability. And in fact, it is often because non-believers have not seen a tangible, positive change in Christians that they are not inclined to consider Him seriously. And rightfully so. After all, is that caricature (right or wrong) of Christians that we see so often in the media the kind of community where you'd want to devote your time, talent and treasure? Neither would I!

Lest we focus too heavily on such external behaviors of our language, alcohol, etc., Paul's admonition to the Colossians is "over all of these virtues put on love". Love is to be the overarching emphasis in our lives, which means that we extend grace were needed, but also balance that grace with Truth. Being able to point people to the Truth, may be difficult at times given the potential for offense that embodies the very nature of Truth, but it can be the most loving thing we can do for someone who is searching for meaning and hope in life.

Within God's boundaries for us, there is leeway for differing interpretations of just exactly how we are to live as Christians. Such questions are the "negotiables". And they are grounded in the "non-negotiables". The important thing is that we not confuse the two.

(And just for the record, refraining from saying "booty" is not one of the non-negotiables of the Christian faith. We gently tried to educate Caleb accordingly. :)

21st century etiquette: what NOT to say to a woman

Before I share this little escapade, I must preface it by saying that I grew up in rural Morgan County, Indiana, in a small town endearingly referred to as "Martintucky" by my friends. We lived down where Jeff Foxworthy's, "You might be a redneck if..." jokes ain't no joke!

In keeping with yesterday's marriage and family theme then, I had to share this little exchange from earlier tonight when Jean got home from work. To give you some context, we're currently in the process of potty training with #3 son, Mark (age 2). It has become a family affair with everyone expressing the expected "atta-boys" in a gesture of euphoric solidarity--with the hope that there will eventually be more hits in the toilet than misses on the carpet. Keeping that in mind, here's how tonight's episode went:

[Mommy walks in the door from a looonnnngggg day at work. And the munchkins rush to meet her in a tumble of arms, legs and incessant chattering. Everyone that is, except Mark.]

[Mark then rushes around the corner into the kitchen sans clothes and proudly announces, "I'm nako, Mom! I went potty."]

Mom: "Did you go poo-poo, Mark?"

Mark: "Yeah!"

[We're all not sure exactly if Mark is giving us an accurate report of his "quality time" on the commode, so Caleb runs to the bathroom to check it out. He returns immediately with the good news.]

Mom: "Did Mark go poo-poo, Caleb?"

Caleb: "Yeah, Mom, he really did. And, Mom, it was huge!"

[Cue the family screaming and praising Mark, as Mark echoes enthusiastically (and as innocently as only a 2-year old can do)...]

Mark: "Yeah, my poo-poo was huge...just like you, Mom!" :P

And there you have it, friends. Besides sitting around and watching wedding videos when Daddy's playing "Mr. Mom", I'm also teaching them the finer points of how to relate to women. We're almost there...maybe. When you refer to a woman as a piece of human excrement, and a huge piece at that, obviously we have a long way to go. Talk about a real self-esteem builder. Fortunately, I married a good woman, and they have a great mother!

Lost keys and lost pride

Why do I struggle with personal pride so much? No, not the kind of personal pride that comes from watching your oldest son graduate from kindergarten (as we did last Tuesday night). I'm talking about that pride that breeds from the fierce independent, "I can conquer life's problems on my own, thank you very much" stubborn mentality. The very kind of pride that reared its ugly head last Thursday.

Let me set the stage for you a little bit...

Tuesdays and Thursdays are my days to watch our four little Indians, so last Thursday Yours Truly was holding down the fort (and doing a fairly good job all things considered, I might add :). That was until we started prepping for the evening's hectic activities. I had a number of responsibilities that were pressing that night, including a leaders meeting for our upcoming Appalachian Trail trip in two weeks, my brother Ethan's birthday dinner (Happy Birthday again, Big E! Sorry I couldn't stay for the cake.), and the final night of taking our new Iraqi refugee friend to work (more on that very interesting experience in another post). With Jean being at work all day, I was planning to pick up Kara the babysitter at 5:00p.m., get her back to the house and settled in, and be off. But life, as is so often the case, got in the way once again.

The boys were sleeping, and Emma was sitting quite contently in her carseat baby carrier nursing 8 oz of milky elixer. She eventually drifted off to the Land of Nod. Then, as I looked over at her, I heard some "thunder from down under". But, given her state of peaceful bliss, I opted not to wake her in order to change her diaper. Big Mistake! :(

A little bit later as I was getting ready to go, I went to move her carseat and found a very unpleasant, thick brown puddle residing on the blue carpet. Somehow or another, her fecal rumblings had seeped out of her diaper and down through the surprisingly porous structure of her baby carrier. "Dude, this is not cool!", I thought. (If you'll remember, I'm not big on this kind of thing. For an entertaining refresher, feel free to go back and read about the infamous restaurant incident--which is worth reading the comment board alone, the Sunday morning sneak attack, and our most recent "Chicago fire" incident. Maybe God's trying to teach me something? I don't know... But I do know I'm about to give Mike Rowe a run for his money. :) I quickly got her out of the baby carrier to assess the damage. It was worse than I thought. So, after getting her cleaned up, I attempted as best I could to get the carpet cleaned up. The baby carrier was another matter. I was so revulsed by it all that I simply dragged it out to the garbage to rid myself of the whole mess (Fortunately, cooler heads have since prevailed, and after multiple rounds of soap, bleach, etc., the carrier is back in action--and cleaner than ever!)

In the midst of that fiasco, I climbed up to the attic to retrieve the other car seat that has lain dormat for quite some time. I was in the process of changing out the car seats in the van. Meanwhile, the clock is still ticking. And it was at that moment that the true reality of the situation sprung to my attention. My set of keys to our minivan were nowhere to be found.

After an initial frantic search, I quickly rushed into the boys rooms and unceremoniously roused them from their slumber, yelling, "Guys, you've gotta wake up and help Daddy find the keys!" They struggled out of their catatonic state, and to their credit, did their best to help me scour the premises. They had the sheer pleasure of dumping all of the toys out of the toy boxes in an attempt to sift for the lost keys. Then it was on to the couch, in which we found everything but the keys. After round 1, we went back over previously scoured territory (in that actually quite-ridiculous-waste-of-time based on the subconciously ill-reasoned assumption that "Maybe if I look under here again I'll be surprised to discover that the keys did indeed sprout legs and crawl under the sofa cushion in an attempt to hide from me." :) We looked everywhere, to no avail.

It didn't look like I was going to be able to make my meeting, my brother Ethan's birthday party, and maybe even picking up Wesam later that night. So, I got on the phone to call Kara, and ended up talking to her dad, John Tracey (husband of Caleb's phenomenal kindergarten teacher this past year, Mrs. Melissa Tracey). I quickly explained the situation, and before I could even catch my breath, he said, "Don't worry about it, I'll just bring Kara over. And you can borrow our car and get to all of the things you need to do tonight. We'll figure out how to make connections at the end of the evening. We'll be there in 25 minutes." Despite my feeble protests to the contrary, he insisted. And given the fact that I had actually run out of options, I relented (which is when God began working on my pride).

The Tracey family came over, and introduced me to "The Beretta". They seemed a bit self-conscious about the car, even though I tried to explain that they had never actually driven any of the Crane vehicles that we were subjected to growing up (Those of you who have known us forever know what I'm talking about, right? :) Driving the Beretta was like slipping into a Cadillace Escalade by comparison.

By evening's end, I had met every obligation, and Jean and I managed to get Kara (and The Beretta) home to the Traceys at the designated time. And despite our profound appreciation and repeated thanks to them for what they had done, they accepted it with a "Hey, no big deal!" acknowledgement.

As I drove home that night (and since then) I have reflected on the experience. On the one hand, my personal pride was standing in the way of allowing someone to do something nice for us in a time of relative crisis. Though I had run out of options, I still was more inclined to call and cancel my participation in the evening's events rather than accept help from someone else. And God used the Traceys (as he had repeatedly used many of you as well during this extended period in which I have been without full-time employment) to help blunt my pride. He has helped me recognize the value of interdependence among us human beings.

The other reminder that last Thursday's chaotic evening provided was the value of Christian community in particular. For you see, while we have gotten to know Mrs. Tracey quite well over the course of the year, I had only met her husband, John, once before. But though we both did not really know eachother, it was the kindred spirit of our Christian faith which fostered the kind of self-sacrificing friendship where previously none existed. If any of you Christians have ever been in a similar situation, you presumably know what I'm talking about. I can't begin to tell you how many times I have run into Christians here at home and abroad who, when it was discovered that we shared the Christian faith, instantly shared an inexplainable bond with me, and I with them.

And that is one of the valuable benefits of true Christian community--to be able to serve one another as if serving the Lord. This is the very picture we see of Christian community in Acts 2 where it says the believers "gave to anyone as he had need." It was a challenge again to me to work on receiving help from others, as well as, continuing to be intentional about providing such help for others whenever the opportunity arises. I'm a better person for Thursday night, despite the obstacles that needed to be overcome in the process.

UPDATE: We did eventually find the keys (right where I thought they might be--fallen out of my pocket in our other car). Thanks again to the Traceys for your last-minute, much-needed help. We really appreciated it! :)

Quality father/daughter time

Yesterday, Emma and I spent some quality time together as we made the cross-country hop out to Portland. And the trip was uneventful, right up until we were getting ready to take off on the first leg of the 3-leg journey (from Indianapolis to Chicago to Seattle to Portland). As I was boarding the plane in Indianapolis, all of the surrounding passengers were fawning over my 6-month old angel, which for any proud Papa is always encouraged (until, of course, about 15 years from now when it's the boys fawning over my teenage daughter). One of the ladies nearby noted with a smile, "Oh, she's wide awake this morning!" To which I responded, "Yeah, but I'm hoping it doesn't last long."

Of course, I was hoping the pendulum would swing back toward the Land of Nod. It didn't. Instead, it swung in the other direction when, three minutes later, she began to wail. As I frantically tried to calm my little used-to-be angel, I heard the people around me chuckling in endearing amusement at how cute her crying was. "Aaahhh, sweet babies, and a cute little girl no less!" Unfortunately, that sentiment didn't last long as her unconsolable crying seemed to last for an eternity. I was praying as fervently as an ex-pastor can pray, "Please, Lord, please let her stop crying!", as I watched my fleeting hopes for the "United Passenger of the Year" award fade with each renewed outburst.

And then she was silent. As I snapped out of my frenetic attempts at calming her down I realized we weren't even in the air yet. It had only lasted about two minutes. But like a dog's life, in air travel years, that's an eternity! :)

We made it to Portland without further incident (other than the dirty diaper that needed some serious attention), and Emma got her wings from one of the flight attendants. Then we headed back to the airport that night to pick up Momma, who had been working all day before catching a flight to Portland. After a good night's sleep, we're ready to paint the Oregon coast red. I'll keep you posted... 

Birthday bonanza at Great Wolf Lodge

Any of you on Facebook are probably aware that we meandered our way over to Cincinati yesterday afternoon for an overnight at Great Wolf Lodge. It's part of my ongoing birthday celebration. But beyond that, it is also quickly emerging as an annual Crane Family event for us. This year, we added brother Doug and their crew of (4 little munchkins) to the mix, so between the four adults and the oodles of kids, it is a recipe for some serious mayhemic fun! So far, no one has gotten lost or stuck on one of the water slides yet (though little Markus Malarkus did fall out of bed last night and land in a crying heap on the floor! All's well for his tough little noggin though...)

We spent all day yesterday at the waterpark and topped things off last night with a big pizza party complete with cookies, and my all-time favorite dessert, black raspberry cobbler. All of the festivities have left in a stupored state of bleary-eyed, sugary bliss.(So much for the diet I've been on since January. That's pretty much out the window while this party's going on.)

We'll be here today and heading back to the homefront later tonight. So, I'll looking forward to catching up with all of you after we get settled in. (Time to waddle off to catch the next week... :)

UPDATE: While looking for something else on the blog, I stumbled on this guest post from Jean from last year's birthday. It tells the very interesting tale of the circumstances surrounding my birth. Rereading that again is a good reminder of just how blessed I am for all of the gifts God has given me, including this gift of life--and the privilege I have to share it with my friends, my family, and all of you.

I'm about partied out!?!

Today, #2 son, Andrew turned "The Big 4" officially. I say, "officially," because this is the fourth party in as many days, and Yours Truly is crying tears of fruit flavored punch (Tears of joy, mind you). Saturday, Jean and I had some quality time with Andrew at the Children's Museum and then topped it off with some pizza and cartoons at Pizza King. Then, Sunday was the extended family festivities. Yesterday, was the party at Bouncer Town with his friends, and today it culminated in the traditional breakfast in bed (before I crashed the party and hustled everybody out the door to school). If I eat any more cake and ice cream...uggghhhh!

As with any child, it's hard to believe that the last four years have passed so quickly. And what was once a squirrelly little munckin is now a bigger squirelly bubber. I love that kid (as I do all of them). His sweet nature and inquisitive mind comes alive each day as he foregoes daily necessities (food, drink, the bathroom, etc.) in order to immerse himself in his own personalized land of make-believe. It's amazing to watch, and heart-warming to hear as he carries on extended dialogue between the characters in his world. It's like watching a one-man play. :) It will be interesting to watch how his imagination develops and where his sharp little mind will take him in the coming years.

Andrew, buddy, I love you very much. And as I remind you often, you're my favorite Andrew in the whole wide world. Happy Birthday!

Our little superheroes

I wanted to put up just two of the latest pictures of our little munchkins. The boys met up with "the real" Batman at the Children's Museum on Saturday.

Here are Mark, Andrew, and Caleb standing tall with The Dark Knight, ready to vanquish evil villains.

  And the first official smiling picture of Emma. Any more like that and the boys had better watch out!

Hope you all had a good weekend. Lots more to come Monday and the rest of this week, including an assessment of Obama's first week in office and a very important birthday celebration coming up. Stay tuned!

Major transition today

Well, we knew today was coming. I knew today was coming. There was no avoiding it, but it still proved more difficult than I had anticipated.

Today was the day that Jean went back to work. (Oh, and there was the Inauguration, too. More on that later. :) And today was the day I went back to being Mr. Mom for at least two days a week. Only this time it's with four little munchkins. What a transition! This morning Andrew was lying next to me in our bed while Jean was getting ready to go back to work after her 3-month maternity hiatus. He said, "Maybe this day we should take some flowers to Mommy." Who needs any more prompting than that? So after picking up Caleb and Andrew from school, we all headed down to take some lillies to Momma at work (and to use our trip as an excuse to let all of ladies at Jean's work see Emma for the first time and to let them in on our cute little Casanova :). Mission accomplished!

I say all this to say that it's been a little difficult to keep up with the Inaugural festivities while I adjust to this very significant transition in our normal weekly routine. (We all miss Mommy already! :P) When you're under that kind of pressure, there is nothing more important going on in your world. My apologies for the delay in providing some reaction to the inauguration today.

But, alas, there are other important things happening today--this historic Inauguration ceremony ushering in not only the first African-American president, but more importantly, a new era. And it remains to be seen just what era will evolve from this pomp and circumstance. Nearly two years ago, this laborious journey began. But that was the easy part. Now  comes the actual job of being the leader of the free world, a job I wouldn't wish on anyone.

As I was monitoring the coverage of the events of today, it was evident that there was an understandable euphoria permeating the crowd of 2 million+ who crowded the Washington mall. As expected, however, the liberal talking heads who pervaded the coverage throughout the day (and all of the Hollywood celebrities they interviewed) presumptively assumed that the whole country is equally euphoric about Obama as president (a feeling that those who didn't support George W. Bush in 2000 and 2004 can presumably relate to), but there will be plenty of time to highlight the idealogical differences that many people (at least 58 million voters) have with President Obama's governing philosophy.

Today is a day of celebration. As many people have commented, today stands as a grand reminder of this great country's ability to facilitate a transfer of power that does not involve violent takeovers or assassinations. It is a testament to the durability and exceptional nature of our democratic Republic. Something we so often take for granted.

I can't begin to imagine what this day means for the scores of African-Americans who bear a legacy very much unlike my own. I will never understand just how deeply this day touches them. But I can understand the theme that resonated among so many African-Americans who were interviewed throughout the day. Namely, from children to parents to grandparents the message was one of hope, not as much on a national level (though there was that), but more so on a personal level. No longer are African-Americans left to wonder if they can actually achieve their dreams. The improbable journey of Barack Obama, showed them, their children, and their grandchildren, that indeed anything is possible. And if nothing else comes from his presidency, that realization will have made this a worthwhile journey.

If you missed President Obama's inaugural speech, you can read/hear the full speech here. For other observations about the event, I'll simply direct you to TyKef's Blog, whose initial impressions reflect my own, as well as, some of the comments I received here at The Daily Detour from some of our readers. The following came from one of our readers across the pond:

firstly congratulations on your new president. I am wondering how the leftist, liberal democrats were appreciating the number of references to God in Obama's speech. I found his appeal to your forefathers and what they endured to build your fledgling new democracy quite inspiring but what he is forgetting is that most but not all of your founding fathers had a christian perspective on life and it was that which created the unity that was necessary to endure those hardships. I think he will find it hard to forge that unity in modern America with such a diversity of worldviews. Anyway no doubt there will be something on your blog tomorrow so I look forward to what you have to say.

And one of our readers closer to home mirrored many of my own thoughts and picked up on the exact part of Obama's speech which especially stood out to me ("all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness"). The email begins,

Much like the last charismatic, democratic President, this new president certainly has the ability to marshal his faithful. There is an awful lot to like about our new president especially when he is behind a microphone. The true test will be when his feet are put to the fire and he has to truly make decisions and hold fast to the promises he made on the campaign trail and this one in his speech today:

“The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works -- whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end.”

One of my enduring questions through this entire process is, will he have the ability to actually end programs?

But this was the one that particularly caught my attention:

“..the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness…”

Not to rain on the man’s parade, but only time will tell if he truly means “all”, or only those we “choose” truly deserve a chance.

A new day dawns, a new era is upon us.  It was certainly time for a change, let’s just hope that at least some of it is good.

I would echo that sentiment, the hope that the promised change translates into positive impact on our country. Time will tell, but in the meantime, we can all come together to acknowledge the gravity and symbolism of this day. And as one of our guest writers here at TDD reminded us on the day after Obama's election in November, it is imperative we Christians follow the biblical mandate to pray for our leaders, and first among them, now President Barack Obama.

UPDATE: Here's how the Political Machine graded the inauguration festivities. Surprise to many, President Bush was closer to the top than the bottom. :)

UPDATE: In trying to read between the lines of Obama's inaugural address and understand what he actually meant by what he said, Cal Thomas raises some very interesting thoughts.

A southern Merry Christmas from TDD

Well, Santa Claus found us after all. The boys were up bright and early and eager to check outside the front door to see if Santa had come after all. Sure enough the presents were stacked deep and chocolate chip cookies were scarce (as was the milk, and carrots for the reindeer). It was so cute to see the three little munchkins standing in the doorway in their matching pajamas beholding the wonder before them.

We brought in the bounty and sure enough, as he always does, Santa managed to bring just exactly everything that the boys had written in their (parent-prompted) Christmas letters. He even brought a little pink Colts onesie for Emma. It doesn't get much better than that. :) There was excitement all around.

Then it was off to the beach for a walk, and the next phase of "Navy Seal" training for Caleb and Andrew. Mark decided it was too cold. (We Cranes don't actually make our 2-year olds train with the same intensity. There is a limit. :) We decided to go for a polar plunge in the frigid surf. So we stripped down to our swimsuits and made our way out to the water. Because Andrew was the most vertically challenged of the group, it didn't take too long before the battering of the waves had him soaked from head to toe. So he headed off to the beach. Then Caleb and I waded farther out. I dove through the next big wave (which literally took my breath away). Caleb was a little hesitant, but it wasn't long before the continued battering of the waves, motivated him to get it over with (since Dad had already emphasized that quitting before complete submersion was not an option). So he ducked under the next wave and came up a champion. Mission complete!

Later that night Jean and I went out for a date. The only restaurant we could find that was actually open was a small Chinese joint. It reminded me of that infamous scene near the end of A Christmas Story--"fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra". We then went and saw the much-anticipated movie, Valkyrie , Tom Cruise's new movie about an assassination attempt on Adolf Hitler during WWII. (Be looking for my movie review in a future blog post.)

All in all, it was a great day. And it reminded me again of why Christmas continues to be one of my favorite holidays. I hope it was the same for you and yours. Merry Christmas from here in South Carolina!

Will Santa Claus find us?

Well, friends, I'm back among the living after my annual battle with a nasty case of tonsilitis. (Yeeouch!?! Rough is an understatement.) And just in time for Christmas eve. If you were reading the blog at this time last year, you know that Yours Truly and Momma Crane were concocting a scheme to infect the imaginations of our little munchkins with the magic of Santa. And so, the saga continues...

This year has been a bit more complicated, given the fact that we are hundreds of miles from home, on the beach, and in a resort complex that does not have a fireplace or a chimney. But we're managing including having the kids write their usual letters to Santa (including the reminder, "Don't forget, we're down in South Carolina this year.") Then, surprise of surprises, the guy at the front desk called to inform Caleb that a letter arrived this afternoon for them. (Caleb nearly dropped the phone before he was able to stutter out, "We'll be right down to get it!")

Sure enough, Santa responded with a letter of his own (which had handwriting that looked strangely like Jean's). So now, we wait... (Man, I love Christmas! :)

UPDATE: Apparently, the North American Aerospace Defense Commaned (NORAD) has been keeping tabs on Santa's whereabouts with their "Santa Tracker".

If I eat another one of those cookies "for Santa", it may be a blue Christmas for me. Ugh!?! :)