As I walked into my parents' house on Christmas Eve, there was a special Christmas surprise hiding behind the front door: my brother. This was supposed to be my first Christmas ever without him (except for those early ones before he was born). He was off on a European holiday adventure, and was maybe going to be home in February or April.
Then, on December 21, he decided to come home for Christmas. He bought a last minute plane ticket out of Spain, arranged an airport shuttle to my parents' house, and showed up at their front door at 9:15 pm on December 23, surprising them and subsequently surprising us all.
(The last two pictures are from my birthday weekend back in October.)