Tonight we enjoyed the events of Christmas Eve as we do each December. It’s now been several years since you ordered from the kid’s menu at Kincaid’s, opting nowadays for prime rib over chicken strips and fries. Your enthusiasm for the annual screening of Polar Express hasn’t waned, nor has the love for your puppy, last year’s gift, who has so enriched our lives while relentless destroying our woodwork. Though the “tuck-in” is gone, the good night kiss remains, and before your headphones drop from your ears as you fall asleep, we’ll make this Christmas wish for you.
We wish you always learn for excitement and not for necessity. That you work for fun and not to survive. We wish you to listen to judge and not to comply and that envy never consumes you. We wish that soon, you’ll experience independence, and by the time you reach 90, it will be the new 30. We wish that although you may soon have driverless cars, you never have driverless lives, and that no matter what your life’s destination, you always remain behind the wheel.
All Our Everlasting Love,
Mom and Dad