It’s midafternoon, and I’m lying on the couch, quietly pondering and pleasantly drifting sleepily through the late afternoon rain sounds outside. The TV is quietly playing A Christmas Story as my wife and daughter snooze in turkey-induced slumber. The light is fading outside, the inside is warm and cozy, with the remnants of this morning’s flurry of present openings scattered on the floor and chairs and for at least one day, all is right with my world.

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