I remember a moment (the only moment) in HS soccer when somehow I found myself dribbling the ball down the field for more than half of a second.  I was flustered with with everything going on around me, occupied with the ball right in front of me and I heard distant voices calling my name and yelling "shoot it."  I looked up and realized the goal was right in front of me, and I was completely unprepared to make a shot.  I sort of feel that way about Christmas right now...  I looked at the date and said "oh it's right here!"

(for those who are in suspense, I didn't even come close to making the shot).

Yesterday as I picked up Ahshua from Kindergarden, and we got in the car to go home, I handed him his papers to read.  He picks up the  first one and says, "this isn't my paper."  
I asked him, "How do you know?"  
He replies, "well first, I colored the skin the right color on mine, and this is the way the person next to me colored it.  And second, my name is not Maxwell!"

I know from experience in other scenario's, that one day I will look at my perpetually clean white shower curtain and long for the days of the perpetual muddy hand streaks.