Two pots on stove, steaming, waiting to be stirred. The ham was in the oven while Mighty pan-seared the steak. The smell of butter filled the house. Plates were set on the table.

It was 4pm of Christmas Eve and we needed to get the cooking done by 5pm. We decided to attend the 6pm drive-in Christmas Eve worship at our church. We’ve never been to church physically since March.

We almost didn’t last through the closing hymn. It was a struggle keeping the kids inside the car for over an hour. Mighty and I exchanged glances and we traded sighs, hoping we can survive not just the freezing temperature outside but also our dwindling patience.

Dinner time, we said our prayers and greetings. We had a truce with the kids, we needed a decent and peaceful dinner in honor of Christmas, or else, no gifts will be opened (It worked).

The presents were under the Christmas tree. Not a minute passed, wrappers were strewn everywhere. My heart was filled with warmth seeing the kids’ joy and excitement as they opened their gifts.

We finally managed to put all the kids in bed at 10.30pm. Table was clean, dishes done, toys were packed away. It was snowing outside. Over a glass of water and a bottle of beer, Mighty and I shared our Christmas wishes.