I didn’t have a chance to write my letter to Santa this year. All December long, I kept a running list in my head, and, just like the boys, added and subtracted things along the way. I never took pen to paper, partially because there was always something else to do. Decorating our tree, decorating mom’s tree, coordinating teacher presents, Christmas cards, fixing the strands of lights that had gone out, baking, assembling, guessing which Star Wars lego sets were really the ones the boys wanted.
The Adventures of the Lucky Orange Pants (and the girl who wears them)
You might think, following UVA’s loss in the Sweet Sixteen, that I no longer consider my orange pants lucky. But you’d be dead wrong.
1. The Lucky Orange Pants have allowed you to witness firsthand my utter and obsessive three decades long love for my Wahoos. It’s always been there – I’ve just kept it a secret because I want us to stay friends. 2. But the power of the Lucky Orange Pants extends far beyond my ridiculous and complex superstitions. They have co-opted friends and family into doing bizarre things, including but not limited to, wearing a pillow as a hat, rooting for our opponents, and almost naming a newborn after members of the team. The power of the Lucky Orange Pants even got a Tech fan to wear orange pants on Friday night.