In the prescribed position of hands clasped and eyes on the music teacher, Molly Kate, second from right, stands ready to sing.
Husband Walter and I spent most of Wednesday on the road to and from Baton Rouge to attend granddaughter Molly Kate’s preschool Christmas program at St. Andrews Methodist Church.
All of the little participants wore their Christmas pajamas for the presentation “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” Each class also wore a different style holiday head gear.
Molly Kate takes school extra seriously. Even when her class was awaiting their second march to the stage, she kept her hands clasped and lips firmly sealed.
Molly Kate is all business.
She did smile a bit as her class was ready to return to the classroom and the anticipated Christmas party.
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Waiting for the doors to open and for the program to begin, we also enjoyed our two-year-old grandson Walker. Both maternal and paternal grandparents are interested to see how this little one will adapt to life in a preschool classroom next year.
Walker visits with Baboo and Nana.
Our daughter-in-law Katie’s family calls Walker "Jeremy Junior," because his personality as well as his appearance are much like his dad’s. As a child, Jeremy considered rules mere suggestions. He was creative about stretching rules as far as possible without technically breaking them.
Jeremy and Katie have some fun days ahead of them.
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Yesterday was cold. I stayed inside and recuperated from Wednesday’s trip. I had already made my Christmas list, but I did check it twice to determine what gifts we still needed and what bastions of commerce we should breach to acquire them. I just assumed that no one was naughty, that all were nice this year.
Baboo to the rescue
Husband Walter was definitely on the “nice” side of the ledger, stepping up, or in this case, kneeling down to wrap and bag the gifts already in our possession.
Here it is Dec. 21, and we have a few more purchases to make. We have had several deliveries today from my online shopping. I hope the rest arrive in time.
I guess it’s a tradition, always last minute.