The day after Thanksgiving is when we traditionally drag all the Christmas stuff out of the shed and begin the gradual and delightful process of decking the halls. I leave the Black Friday shopping run to bolder souls; any gift-buying I do this weekend is generally of the point-and-click variety.
My favorite part of this first day of Christmas is unpacking the holiday books. We add one or two new ones each year, but even the oldest, simplest picture books in our collection hold the sort of magical nostalgic charm that can only be earned through year after year of snuggling up on the sofa next to a cozy woodburning stove, reading aloud together by the soft illumination of twinkling Christmas lights and glowing candles.
The day my children finally outgrow this beloved nightly tradition, some of the enchantment will go out of Christmas forever for me.