For pretty much our entire marriage, we've loaded up on the morning after Thanksgiving to pick out our Christmas tree. The girls look forward to this day for weeks and by Thursday afternoon, they couldn't stop talking about it. We alternate between a few of our favorite breakfast places, stuff ourselves full of pancakes, and then pick out the biggest tree we can fit inside our house. This was the year we discovered that Polly doesn't like pancakes, french toast OR waffles (unless slathered in nut butter), so I was patting myself on the back for feeding her something before we left. She did eat a scrambled egg, a few bites of bacon, and a green pea squeezie, but I'm hoping we can convince her that IHOP breakfasts are a rare delicacy. This was also the year of mostly blurry ...