Guest number three (overnight guest number two) has just departed for the airport and I have an entire 40 minutes to myself as I ride the train to my mother-in-law�s, where I�m meeting my husband and AJ. But I should start where I left off.

Christmas Day.

Christmas morning we were, needless to say, awakened by the athletic footsteps of AJ sprinting into our room (at 6:30 on the dot, as per his custom) and hurtling through the door. �It�s Christmas! Can we open presents now?� He has been asking this question for days and finally the answer is �Yes!� We put on our robes and slippers and AJ stands for a moment on the landing outside our bedroom door, from which he can see the Christmas tree and the fireplace. �What�s that?� He runs downstairs to find a series of dolls (or perhaps �action figures� is the term of the moment�) of Peanuts characters: Charlie Brown and Lucy with a football, Linus with his blanket and a book of Philosophy, Peppermint Patty with her baseball glove, Pigpen in his cloud of dust, Snoopy with his doghouse and bowl (empty), Woodstock with a nest in a tree and a birdbath, and the Kite Eating Tree (complete with a kite to devour). This proves to be the hit of the day. He opens everything else and plays with it, but he keeps returning to the figurines, reenacting the kicking of the football game over and over again.

We spent a couple of hours opening and playing with Christmas presents, and talking to assorted relatives on the phone. My brother called from Jordan to wish us Merry Christmas and to tell us about his imminent trip to Sri Lanka. We then dressed in our Christmas finest, piled the car with presents until it looked like Santa�s sleigh, and headed to my mother-in-law�s for brunch and more gifts. My parents gamely attended the second day of an onslaught of inlaws. We had an enjoyable day full of too many treats and too little sleep, as the best days often are.

When I was tucking AJ into bed, he asked if Santa were coming again tomorrow. �No, Christmas will be over tomorrow,� I replied. �Will my presents still be here tomorrow?� He couldn�t quite believe that they weren�t on loan. I think he thought Santa would come back and suck them all up the chimney again.

�Will it ever be Christmas again?�
�Yes, next year when you�re four.�
�And then when I�m five I go to kindergarten.� Kindergarten, in AJ�s mind, is possibly even more exciting than Christmas.

We had a relaxed visit with my mom and dad on Sunday and they headed for home on Monday morning. Monday our friend M. came out to visit, but did not stay. Tuesday morning we finally had confirmation from my brother that he was still in Jordan and had no plans to leave. In the evening my friend B., whom I hadn�t seen since our wedding, arrived. B. and I met when we were both studying in France over a decade ago. We reminisced about rehearsals in a moldering chateau, about overdosing double espresses in the same caf�s in which we drank too much Pastis and Stella Artois by night. It was nice to do some catching up, but it�s also nice to have a breather before my friend L. comes in tomorrow for New Year�s. We are planning some serious shopping and a feast of lobster and lemon risotto.

The train is crowded with vacationers heading downtown to see the holiday decorations and take in the after-Christmas sales. They are standing in the aisles. There are definitely advantages to living so far out of the city that you don�t have to jockey for a seat. I will spend the rest of the day pretending to watch football with my husband and his brother while playing with AJ and trying to steal glances at The Curious Incident of the Dog at Nighttime, a Christmas present that is not nearly as good as I had hoped, but a page-turner nonetheless.

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