Accidental Traditions

I don't exactly have a New Year's Eve tradition; however, throughout the past five years, I seem to often find myself having a lovely dinner with old Milwaukee friends at their home. Before their son came into the picture, these two would be the first ones to be out on the town, whooping up the new year. However, that swiftly changed once they started looking for child care for December 31st. No worries, though. They just decided to change their tradition to a quiet night in and I, as the regular nomadic singleton, have generally been invited to join in.

So once again, due to the graciousness of my friends, I stuffed myself with a delicious dinner (this year, it was crab legs) and once again, after the table was cleared, the tunes were cranked and their four-year-old son and I tore around the house, shrieking, this time with foam bullet guns. After I staged death in their foyer, we put the guns away and let Mr. Four-Year-Old take reign of the Ipod. He chose his favorite, Jack Johnson, and the four us commenced our very typical dance party next to the Christmas tree in the living room. As I looked around at the four of us, I had to laugh. What a funny little tradition we seem to have.

I am single, per usual, but this year, I am completely content with my status. I was thrilled to have a little sticky, rosy cheeked dance partner who refers to me as "Auntie Rachael" instead. It's fun to be adored as much as you love another human being. And it's absolutely wonderful to know that despite thousands of miles, you can just fall back in with certain people, as if you've never left.

Although this morning, I raise my coffee only, I can still say, "Prost!" Happy New Year, all. Hope it started off as a good one.