St. Nick

St. Nick is a traditional feast day where kids (or 30 year old's) put their socks out and St. Nick comes to fill the socks with sugar-laden goodness. Ever since Jack and I got married, St. Nick has visited him, but St. Nick's visits to me have been sparse. You know what I mean.

I gave him crap about that a few years ago and put it on his Outlook calendar as a recurring appointment. St. Nick has not forgotten me since. :)

Anyway, I was lamenting the fact that St. Nick was probably not going to remember me this year. I prepared myself to visit CVS on my own accord and pick up my own stocking-stuffer candy. I was going to (gasp) sacrifice my sugar high as an Advent offering.

Then a box appeared on my doorstep. It was heavy! It was a surprise! The best kind of surprise.

I called Jack and he told me to open it. Inside the box was a very cute pair of black heels (can you believe that Jack shoe-shopped for me...and the shoes actually fit and look cute?), stuffed to the brim with my favorite candies, covered in SOCKS TO STAY HOME IN. It was so great and the 60-odd hours I've worked this week disappeared as I lost myself in truffles, Pop Rocks, and caffeinated jellybeans and enjoyed warm, cozy feet.

Yes, caffeinated jellybeans.

Does it get any better?

Thank you, Jack!