The countdown to Christmas continues with Four Lines of Prose Friday requesting four lines, the first of which must begin with: I really can't stay
That would be the opening from Baby, It's Cold Outside.
We are safe and sound here in Calgary, where there is a whole lot of snow. Getting here was mostly good, as Max was awesome on his first plane ride. No real fussing, making friends, lots of laughs.
The worst part of the whole trip was the drive here from the airport, as it was getting late and he was tired and hungry and very much not wanting to be in a car seat. But we survived and he's settling in quite nicely.
Will try to share some pictures tomorrow.
I really can't stay hidden here for much longer. Crouched down like this for so long... I'm fairly certain my legs are about to atrophy. My thoughts are drifting, my focus is shifting like grains of sand in a desert tornado... wait, do deserts even get tornadoes?
But I don't dare move, not with Santa Claus due to arrive at any moment.