Tommy has spent most of his free time this season tearing up the Christmas tree. But last night he finally turned his attention away from the pagan symbols that have infected our Christmas celebrations and began to focus his destruction on the true meaning of Christmas. He climbed the piano and ravaged the nativity set, finally getting his sticky little fists on the piece de resistance: Baby Jesus.
Jake brought in the headless child last night to my bedroom where I was locked in quiet, kid-free, gift wrapping bliss and informed me: Tommy has decapitated Baby Moses. Oh. And his arm is gone, too.
Jake leaves the room to look for glue, and soon I hear: Five dollars to whoever can find Jesus' arm!
Apparently somebody is five bucks richer, because there it is in the photo.
Tommy was pretty upset about the whole incident. He is very, very sorry, as you can see here:
I am certain he will never do it again.
Nice booger bubble, Tom.
Merry Christmas, everyone!