North Pole missive

This may feel like jumping the gun, but Thanksgiving has already come and gone here in Sofia, and with kids the pressure to get one’s ducks in a row is a bit more intense, particularly as expectations escalate. So we resorted to the oldest^[1] trick^[2] in the book: ask the kids to tell Santa what they want for Christmas and then arrange to intercept the intelligence for parental exploitation. Here Adam lets the boreal fat man^[3] know about a little something he’d like to find under the tree on Christmas morning:

(For those of you who lost track during isoglossia’s long hiatus, Adam will be five in two weeks.)

Now Alek, six weeks shy of three, gets his turn (sort of):

These kids get harder to please all the time.