My folks love collectibles. You name it. We probably have a gang of them somewhere at 411. When Mom arrived for her sleep-over last week, finding the bag of baseball bears was at the top of her list. Dad wanted to give them out to the gang at Assisted Living.
We found them. We thought about putting ribbons on them (there were over 30-way too much work). But then Mom realized just how heavy the bag was. Instead, Kat and I brought them on Saturday. We became the Baseball Bear deliverers.
You might think this would an easy proposition. Dad had some he had already chosen for special people before bear arrival. ("Ruth" got the Babe Ruth Bear.) Then, how would they know that the bears were from Mom and Dad? It started with Kat and I knocking on doors, chatting a bit and then just putting them on the nearby ledge, door handle, stockings, etc.
As you can imagine, this was not exactly what we had in mind for our holiday celebration with Mom and Dad. But, it was important to them and we did what we could.
When we spoke on Sunday morning, Dad was proud that they'd completed their mission. All the bears were delivered, and I think they enjoyed getting to be Santa just a little bit this season. Happy Holidays!
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