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The week between holidays, a limbo of well-wishes and unbridled gluttony, is finally running into the other bookend- New Year’s Day, and more importantly, the countdown to it.

Some people take this as a time to reflect or plan for the future, some go carpe diem and make the most of the now. It varies. Some dabble a bit in everything.

I’m a dabbler. I’m also a picker, a grinner, a lover and a sinner. If I played music, it would most likely be in the sun. But I digress. My point? I spread it around this week.

First of all, I gave. The boys reaped a haul of toys that would make Santa blush. My wife and I, and by association, Santa, managed to keep Disney, Apple, Nike, Fossil and Amazon, from going under, not to mention the wages we protected for the kids that make their respective products. Sweat shop? It was a sweet shop this year. You’re welcome.

We also donated to a number of animal-related charities, no not by eating steak twice a day, but with real old-school checks. Lots of checks. We actually do this every month, but it feels extra nice knowing that this time of year those homeless seals and burlap-scented kittens are sitting around drinking eggnog and opening gifts rather than laying tits up on the buffet line at Kathy Lee’s employee party. It feels real nice.

I reflected. Last Christmas, when I gave you my heart, well, the very next day you gave it away. That was crap. This year, to save me from tears I decided to share my heart with my wife and two little boys. Man, you should have seen them.

There is little that compares to the joy of a child on Christmas morning. The excitement is palatable. It is contagious. To think, just a few years ago I didn’t know this experience but from a memory of my own youth. They say that being a parent allows you to relive your own childhood. Your debt-laden, stress-driven childhood. Christmas morning it actually happens.

That made my segue into planning for the future a no-brainer, more of the same. As I said, there are few things that compare with the childlike wonder shared by all on Christmas morning, but the one that comes close is Disneyland. That’s why we’re packing up the family truckster first thing in the morning and making the hour and a half drive across the country to The Happiest Place on Earth. This is the now.

The year is nearing its inevitable end, and we shall close it where we started it, at Disneyland standing shoulder to shoulder with the masses enjoying a moment of bliss and hope. A child’s moment of naive innocence and hope for what the new year may bring. Aside from the bills of course.