Tag: When Real Isn’t Real
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When Real Isn’t Real
Thirty-two people, young and old, were jammed into our family room Christmas morning. This is our immediate family, and the noise level rivaled that of an open-air market place. My husband, who is a gentle jolly sort, had purchased a Santa outfit two years ago. He brought it out and loved on the littles this…
Tip of My Iceberg 