You know, we haven’t had a fireplace since our apartment that we lived in when Max was a baby. (We have one in this house – not a woodburning fireplace, but a little gas one with fake logs. The kids like it. I like it, too.) I suppose that’s why I didn’t think about doing anything different with our stockings this year than what we usually do: lining them up on the sofa Christmas Eve. What was I supposed to do, though, when Charlie came up to me with his big blue eyes wide and asked, “Mommy, aren’t we going to hang our stockings?”
We don’t have any stocking hooks, or hangers, or whatnot, and I had NO intention of going near my pretty white mantle with a hammer and nails. Fortunately, I had a small tension rod handy, and in seconds, our stockings were hung with appropriate care.
(Yes, those are my children’s actual names. Nicknames, anyway.)
Maybe someday I’ll get more personalization on those stockings than just names, but for now it works. My, it’s getting Christmassy around here!
