Over the past couple weeks, I began to wonder which camp was mine and was really hoping I was in Camp One.
But on Friday morning, I migrated to Camp Two with a positive test that definitely matched my symptoms. And I didn't catch it in the community. I caught it at home.
I had previously offered to handle any breaking news on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and I'm happy to report I kept my promise.
But Christmas evening was made all the brighter when Joshua called and asked if he could bring the kids down for a bit just to get them out of the house. They had opened a few gifts, but he was saving the rest until Jan. 7, which is our family Christmas.
"I'm working," I told him. "And I have COVID. I'm not sure I have the energy for a visit, too."
They came anyway. And it was a relatively safe visit. Because the kids and Joshua all had COVID end of November into early December.
That's why we still had the kids' St. Nicholas stockings. Because the kids had COVID.
That's why we canceled our plans to take them to Festival of Gnomes in Joliet, their first theater experience. Because they had COVID.
But COVID didn't keep the joy of St. Nicholas stockings away. It just delayed it. The fact the kids tore into the stockings on December 25 instead of December 6 didn't dampen their excitement one bit.
Who would have thought Christmas could bring such a surprise - to them, to me?
It was good medicine on Christmas Day.
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