Geez, back five minutes and already I have to open up a can of whoop ass on you...
Yez, I suppose you could look at your Christmas in that way...
But if you CHOSE to, you could also see it this way:
You had a whole wonderful week with them before Christmas, and in doing so got to enjoy the expectation, the anticipation, the wonder of Christmas as only children see it.
You had them Christmas Eve and got to do the, "hey, you better go to bed so Santa can come" and hear them giggle and talk, unable to go to sleep because they were so excited. You got to awake at the crack of bejeezus Christmas morning to their laughter...again, to share the thrill, the joy, the glee...nothing, absolutely nothing like a house with children on Christmas morning.
You had your day cut short, yes, but because your daughter wanted to see her mother...feel comforted by the fact that she felt safe enough to say that to you, know that that reflects that you two have succeeded in making them feel safe, making them feel like they can tell the two of you such things, that they can openly and honestly express those kinds of feelings to you without fear of your reacting badly.
You got to take them back home, to their mother, who must have missed them terribly, and been grateful to you for your kindness and caring for your children, and you left them with her, secure and comforted by the notion that she is a good mother, a loving mother.
