There are certain times in every parent's life when they are reminded that they're doing something right.
This week, the Mrs and I exchanged knowing smiles when the kids clamored for our annual Christmas tree trip into the mountains.
'Ya know, with us so busy with the house and all, we were thinking it might just be easier to get a tree from the lot this year.'
'No way Dad, not gonna happen.'
Hook. Line. And sinker. Dog help me if they ever call my bluff.
We heard from many families this year, how they remember the fun they once had combing the hills for that perfect tree, together.
When asked, seems hardly anyone keeps that old tradition alive these days.
Thinking backonit driving home, if there is one wish of my own this Christmas, I would wish for my own kids to return to the mountains each year in the early weeks of December.
Their own families bundled in the back, belting out their favorite holiday classics. Stopping for biscochitos at the roadside stand. Secretly buying the tree permit for the family next in line.
Then heading up that winding road, reminiscing of the great tree hunts past.
In search of this year's perfect tree, yes.
But finding a whole lot more.