The snowfall had started at sunrise.  I knew because that's when I got up, unfortunately.  My daughter, Emma, who had woken up around five, came to crawl into bed with Liza and me.  Because I didn't especially welcome the feeling of icy cold feet on my back, I scrambled out from under the covers just as Emma scrambled in.

When she finally dozed off, I smiled.  Her curls framed her adorable round face as she snuggled in next to her mommy.  In a ninties kind of way, they appeared similar to the Virgin Mary and  Baby Jesus.

Sleepily pulling on a flannel robe, I tried going down the stairs.  I failed miserably.  Waking up in the morning is hard to cope with.  Falling down the stairs, rather than walking proved to be painful option, although it wasn't an ideal choice.  Fortunately for me, Liza had placed a basket of laundry at the bottom of the stairs the night before.

On my way to the bottom, I tried getting a grip on the banister in an attempt to break my fall.  I succeeded, but in doing so ripped out the bracket that held the banister to the wall.  It was not going to be a good day.

Now don't get me wrong; Christmas Eve is a special day as we all know, but falling down the stairs wasn't exactly enjoyable.  I sat at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Liza to come to my rescue.  The bedroom door remained closed.  I groaned and stumbled into the bathroom.  While applying a Sesame Street Band-Aid on my shin, since there were no others, I dropped the box on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, I banged my head on the toilet seat.  Now having a bruise, I put the Band-Aids away.  Muttering a few unmentionable words, I got dressed.

Meander back to my Library!