All three of my children are at home. My dog is happy and healthy. Nearly all my Christmas shopping is done. My wife is cooking Christmas dinner. Business feels in a good place. God is clearly with us.

Everything, except for the coding error you see above this post, feels good.

Happy Holidays to the millions of Blogenberg visitors worldwide!

Thank you!

My 16-year-old daughter is driving my pick-up truck. I am in the passenger’s seat, her twin brother in back. We pull up to a traffic light. A worn looking man is standing on the median. “Homeless. Hungry. Please help,” read his cardboard sign.

I give to these guys (and women), when I can. I don’t know who they are, or what they do with the money. I figure that’s between them and God.

At the traffic light today, I go to my back pocket for my wallet, and ask my daughter to roll down her window. “I’ve got it,” she says, reaching in the back seat for her purse. She has a job and works hard for her money. She gave the guy five bucks.

I got tears in my eyes.

I have irrefutable proof that me and my family are not snobs: we are legitimately excited that a brand spanking new 7-11 has opened up around the corner from our home.

The National Football League has some beautiful new commercials for it’s Play 60 campaign to motivate children to get out and play, to be active for at least 60 minutes a day.

But every time I see this spot on television, it saddens me. Our culture has slipped to the point where we need a high-priced public education campaign to try to get children to go out and play.

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My 16-year-old son has just accepted a scholarship to play college lacrosse. InsideLacrosse.com did a very cool report about it. But one kid posted a comment: “He’s really not good at all.” My son could care less. But it ticked me off. It’s weird to see your son so viciously attacked online (just kidding about the vicious part) — but it is weird, and it bothered me. Fortunately, other kids posted comments like, “He is very good,” and “He tears it up.”

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I yelled at my two teens this morning for being slow getting ready for school, holding me up from getting to a meeting. My dog got very upset. First, she walked over and stood behind my wife, her tail drooping, rubbing up against my wife’s legs for “safety.” Then, she walked over to me and got up on her hindquarters, her paws up in the air, until I leaned down and hugged her. My dog gets very stressed when one of her peeps is upset.