Life With Clay

Friday night, we decorated our tree for Christmas and found a place of honor for the Grinch and his dog/reindeer, a gift from a very thoughtful friend last year after we lost ours to Mr. Busy Hands.

The two of them seem quite happy in their new home, nestled between the cowardly lion and a strawberry. Yes, the little guy went to work on the ornaments quickly, as he does every year. A fragile Charlie Brown’s Christmas globe hit the floor just minutes after we plugged in the decorative lights. My fault for putting it out. Fortunately, most of his attention has been on the ceramic Santas, which, as usual, have found themselves relocated to numerous nooks and crannies throughout the house. I found one staring at me from the top of the toilet tank last night. Got me questioning whether I was naughty or nice this year.

We know better than to hang the stockings. Who can resist their soft fuzziness? Not Clay.

What did the little fellow think of the decorated tree?

“So beautiful,” he typed on the keyboard he uses to communicate. Couldn’t agree more, especially with the Grinch back, smiling his goofy smile.