My mom is one of those people who dives into Christmas as soon as the Thanksgiving turkey carcass has been disposed of. We are that house on the block that is lit up with so many twinkle lights that you can spot us from outer space. Usually I grumble my way through untangling the strands of lights, climbing ladders, and sorting out the blow up snowmen all by myself. But this year we had Jackson, who jumped in with enthusiasm that almost matched my mom’s. He was so damn cute. All my mom had to do was say what and where, and he was on it with his lopsided smile from ear to ear. Then my mom would give me a look that clearly said, “why can’t you be more like Jackson?” But I didn’t mind. I was enjoying his participation, and enjoying his exuberance. I was also enjoying sitting on the s
