Page 81 of Please Send Snow
Jake crawls over and drags the box into the open so we can watch Dylan unpack it.
“Can you cut the tape?” Dylan asks his father, hopping up and down a little as he waits.
By the time we’ve got the wooden train set unpacked, Dylan is delivering a nonstop monologue about how cool it is and where the train is going and who is riding on it.
We sit back to watch him arrange everything, sipping our coffee and enjoying the magical moment.
“Now, everyone hold on tight,” Dylan advises his passengers in the rumbly voice he has assigned to the conductor.
I laugh as he whips the train around the coffee table, and Jake leans over to me.
“Do you think he needs a brother or sister?” he whispers in my ear.
I can actually feel my heart trying to beat outside my chest.
“Only if you want,” he adds quickly. “And no rush.”
But the idea of making this family even bigger sounds amazing to me. I can already imagine Dylan pushing his little brother or sister on the swings, or teaching themhow to do all the things he loves doing. He’s going to be an amazing big brother.
“Soon would be good,” I manage.
“That’s my girl,” Jake murmurs, pulling me close.
“What about your present, Mommy?” Dylan suddenly pops up to ask me.
“Can I give you one first?” I ask him.
His eyes sparkle as he nods his head up and down.
“Okay,” I say, pulling out a big awkward thing from behind the tree. “Here you go.”
“Wow, that’s big,” Dylan says, ripping into it without hesitation.
A moment later, the gift is revealed. I hold my breath. It’s kind of old-fashioned…
“A sled,” Dylan says. “A sled.”
It’s a big wooden one with red rails, just like the ones in most of his picture books. I hoped he would love it, and by his smile I think I made a good choice.
“I thought it would be just right for all that snow you keep wishing for,” I tell him with a smile. “And your dad can probably fit on there with you.”
“Look out mountains,” Jake says. “Here we come.”
“Look out mountains,”Dylan echoes, galloping around the room like he just won the Kentucky Derby. “Look out mountains.”
He’s definitely on a sugar high from all that French toast and maple syrup, but I think Jake and I can take a little credit too. Dylan is having a good Christmas, and it’s not really the presents. I think it’s more about the fact that we’re all together.
“Should we give your daddy his present?” I ask him.
Dylan rushes right over to the tree and grabs the gift we picked out together.
Jake has been laughing more lately, and it will be great if he has his sense of humor ready for this, because even though it’s a little cheesy, I really hope he puts it to use.
“What can it be?” Jake asks, pretending to shake the big box.
“No, no,” Dylan laughs. “You don’tshakeit. You open it up.”
Jake winks at me and sets it down, making quick work of the wrapping paper until the gift is revealed.
