Family, family, family

My two sons have a running "thing" about who is my favorite. Colin will call me with "Hi, Ma, it's me, your favorite son" and Jamie will post on Facebook, "Mom, I know you love me a lot but we have to remember you have another son and we don't want to hurt his feelings." So I got two shirts that said, "Mom likes me best" and made them open them simultaneously. They thought I had scored, so thanks to friend Sally for finding these.
Have you ever slept on an air mattress? One with a leak? We air it up before I got to bed but it gets quite soft during the night--then it's hard to move in the bed because it seems to envelop me, and it's hard to get up. I can't get the support to stand up. I finally decided it's best to roll off, get on all fours, and stand up from there. But the corker came this afternoon when I took up a nap. I had pushed the mattress close to the bookcase and put the phone on a shelf so I could check the time. Rolled over to do that and the whole mattress came with me, standing on its side. I was trapped by the covers. After two tries I extricated myself but I had visions of having to call the children, which would have a) made them laugh, and b) convinced them I need a keeper.
The funny thing about all this is that my grown kids are on a protective kick about me. Yesterday, as I took rolls out of the lower oven, my hand brushed the rack and got a tiny burn, momentary discomfort. Meantime Megan demanded that I let go of the pan--she was sure I was falling and about to put my hand on the oven door. In truth, I only needed someone to push the rolls back onto the rimless cookies sheet. But it was "Mom, after this, let us get things out of the lower oven!"  My reaction was a vehement "No! I'm capable." I've had a cold, the kind that makes you snort and snuff in the morning and leaves a lingering cough. So I've dealt with threats to take me to an ER clinic in spite of my protests that feel fine and it's just a cold.
I'm protesting that if they keep this up, they'll make me old before my time. Their argument--mostly Colin--is that I'm of an age where a fall can have serious consequences (didn't tell them I tripped on bed clothes yesterday and took a hard fall) and pneumonia can be serious, etc. Compromise: I will call my doctor's office tomorrow.
A Christmas Eve photo that I find beond sweet: They're staring at the reindeeer food they put out, waiting for reindeer to appear. Unfortunately it rained and as someone said the reindeer food turned to oatmeal. Still, the hopefulness of children is so much a part of Christmas and its joy. I've read posts that say "Okay, we're done with Christmas. Let's move on." I'm not ready to let go of the spirit. The first child left today, a whole family will be leaving in a few minutes, but we've had three glorious days together.