Ahead of Christmas (1)
I had fallen asleep alone in the bedroom, watching the children through the open door, and woke sometime near dawn.
I wandered out to the living room, pulled a blanket over myself on the sofa, and tossed and turned before idly checking my phone.
I considered turning off the morning alarm, but if I sank into deep sleep again it would be a problem, so I left it alone and opened YouTube instead.
Views, shares, comments…
It took me a moment to process the staggering numbers on the screen.
Did the kids’ video get picked up by the algorithm again?
Every time I refreshed, the numbers ballooned even higher.
Faced with figures that simply refused to feel real, my mind snapped fully awake and every last trace of sleep fled.
“…….”
Ordinarily I avoided looking at the comments.
Once I started, it was hard to stop, and it got in the way of daily life.
I had two children at home who needed my hands on them; I could hardly sit around staring at my phone all day.
Besides, I had staff who checked and managed the comments for me, so I’d been able to stay out of it.
But right now, I wanted a look. Given the content of the video and the time of year, there probably wouldn’t be much in the way of nastiness.
“…….”
Well, it was just a quick peek at dawn. What could it hurt?
Telling myself I’d only look until the alarm went off, I started scrolling.
The farther I scrolled, the higher the corners of my mouth climbed.
Now and then someone asked for product info on the Christmas tree decorations, but most of the comments were exactly what I’d hoped for.
People saying the kids were adorable. Well-wishes for a happy Christmas for all of us.
I’d expected as much, but seeing it with my own eyes still felt good.
I took my time savoring the kind words as I kept scrolling—and then a comment written in Korean appeared.
I’d known Korean viewers had spiked ever since the party video with Vanessa and Mello showed that scene of us playing hwatu.
Greg and Cassandra had checked the translated comments and told me Koreans generally left kind, warm ones…
Unlike them, I could read the originals, and it took me a second to parse what I was looking at.
I blinked a couple of times and turned the phone screen off.
The gratitude I felt toward people who liked me and the kids never changed.
But I suddenly had the distinct sensation that the genre of my life had been rewritten overnight.
I was still trying to pull my fuzzy thoughts back together when the morning alarm went off.
I scrambled to silence it so it wouldn’t wake the children—but I was a little too late.
Reni, who usually slept through alarms ringing right beside him, poked his head out with his hair a sleep-tousled mess.
“Daaad.”
He spotted me on the sofa, eyes barely open, and came toward me with both hands stretched out.
I sat up, gathered him into the blanket, and lay back down with him.
Stroking his soft hair, I whispered to the half-asleep child.
“There’s my Reni. Dad’s alarm woke you up, huh? Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you later so you won’t be late.”
Sprawled on top of me, he nuzzled his face against me as if he meant to drift off again—then stopped moving.
He seemed to be thinking about something, then looked up at me in a still-drowsy voice.
“But it’s vacation…? Can I keep sleeping…?”
Still half-asleep, of course. I patted his cute little back and answered.
“Not kindergarten. Today’s Saturday, so it’s a church day.”
“……Oh. Right.”
Reni rested his head again as if he might fall back asleep, blinking blankly toward the tree tent.
I wondered whether he still hadn’t noticed the mountain of gifts piled in front of it—and the next moment he used me as a springboard and bolted upright.
“Presents! Santa already came!”
He whipped his head this way and that, all excitement, as if hunting for traces of Santa.
“No, Santa hasn’t been here yet. Those presents are from Dad to you two.”
“Ahh!”
Sleep had clearly abandoned him for good. Reni beamed, all bright and open.
“Daaad, thank you!”
“You’re welcome. But we have to wait until Christmas to open them, okay?”
“Mm…… But Luca might want to open them first. Then can I open just one too?”
This kid. He always blames his little brother at times like this.
I hugged him tight and ruffled his hair, and he giggled.
“Let’s sleep a little more first.”
I pulled him close again and patted his back.
I’d expected him to drop right off—but then he said something unexpected.
“……Maybe we shouldn’t go to church today?”
“Hm? You don’t want to go?”
Reni looked up at me again, blinking as if fishing through his memory. His lashes fluttered with every drowsy blink.
“You said… you said we’re going to church on Christmas too. So we’d go soon and then go again soon.”
“Yeah, I did.”
Today being Saturday, I’d planned to take him to church as usual, bring him home Monday, and then go back again on Wednesday for Christmas.
“Then should Reni wait until Wednesday and go on Christmas? Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Really? You’re okay not seeing Mom today?”
“Yeah. Christmas is soon….”
Apparently Reni wanted to play with Luca inside the Christmas tree tent more than he needed to see his mother right away.
Well, if he started crying about it later I could always take him tomorrow, so it hardly mattered.
As the boy himself had pointed out, it was winter break.
“Alright then. We’ll do whatever Reni wants.”
I pressed a kiss to his head, and he melted into a soft little smile of pure contentment. Looking at him, I suddenly remembered the comments calling him a baby angel.
My baby angel wriggled free of my arms and crawled back into the tent.
“Then I have to sleep more! Luca’s sleeping a lot, so I’m gonna sleep a lot too.”
And with that, Reni really did fall right back asleep.
I texted Cassandra the whole story and told her not to come pick him up in the morning.
She replied almost instantly. I’d assumed she’d still be asleep.
She asked if I’d seen how huge the video had gotten, and while we were messaging back and forth, Greg texted asking if I’d seen it too.
In the end we all piled into the group chat and quietly celebrated our channel’s good fortune.
After a modest round of congratulations, everyone scattered to have breakfast with their own families.
I sat up on the sofa and stretched.
Normally I would have done my morning workout, but I skipped it, took a light shower, and came back out.
I considered breakfast for a moment, then decided on fluffy pancakes. Reni ate them well—and Luca ate them even better.
Once the cooking prep was done, I soaked two towels in warm water and went to the tent to wake the kids.
“Alright, up you get. Time to eat.”
At the word “eat,” Luca’s eyes snapped open first—ahead of Reni, who had woken in the night and gone back to sleep.
I wiped his face and hands and feet with the lukewarm towel, and his eyes grew bright and clear in no time.
I woke Reni and gave him the same quick wash—and Luca crawled out of the tent.
Under the bright morning sun he spotted the mountain of presents and crawled straight for it.
“……Uh, you can’t open them by yourself—Luca!”
Even half-asleep, Reni called out urgently. Mid-face-wash, the words came out a little mushy.
I snorted a laugh and finished wiping his face.
“It’s fine. Luca’s more interested in the wrapping paper than the presents.”
The very next moment, Luca tore into a package with a long rrrip.
Huh?
“That’s not true, Dad!”
……Okay, not true.
Apparently Luca had learned that something lived inside pretty wrapping paper.
Thinking about it, it made sense—he’d already opened gift packages on his birthday and at Oliver’s studio.
Miraculously, Luca had chosen one of his own presents.
It was a soft red car cushion.
He seemed quite taken with it; he didn’t immediately open anything else.
Instead he devoted himself to studying the cushion, where various animal friends were riding along.
Since Luca had opened one, I had no choice but to let Reni open one too.
And the present Reni chose and opened was…
“Daaad! It’s the same color again…!”
A sock set.
I’d thought toys would make fine Christmas gifts for the kids, but somehow I’d ended up leaning hard into the practical side of things.
Among the stationery, clothes, socks, and books I’d prepared, Reni had picked the socks.
At his outraged cry that I’d bought the same color socks again, I laughed, heh heh.
“But Reni, these socks have a special secret.”
Reni pressed his lips together with the expression of a four-year-old who was not about to fall for that kind of talk.
“Come on, trust Dad just this once and try them on.”
While his pout held firm, I smiled to myself and fitted the socks onto his small feet, right and left.
“Oh…!”
Reni’s face went wide with surprise.
The socks I’d carefully chosen made a single picture when both feet were put together.
He pulled his feet apart and pressed them together again and again, as if he couldn’t believe it.
For a long time he just stared at the big star settled across the tops of his feet.
“That’s not all, Reni. If you look at the bottoms, there’s a secret message written there.”
The second he heard me, Reni scrambled to the mirror.
He plopped down and peered at the soles of his feet reflected in the glass.
“S-Sta… Star! Boooy. Ah! Star Boy!”
“Wow, our Reni can read so well now.”
I patted the back of the child who came flying into my arms, buzzing with excitement.