The Union Square Holiday Market has become an annual can't-miss event each Christmas season, for me if not for Paul.
Each year we bundle up, battle the crowds and browse the 100+ booths of food and gifts. We rarely walk away with much, if anything. The first year, I bought a purse. This year, I actually did buy a Christmas present.
Every year, however, I catch the holiday bug watching others, whether they're warming their hands with a cup of hot cider, picking out the perfect present, or playfully trying on alpaca hats.
Paul patiently waits as I glance at jewelry we both know I'll never buy. When we split up for a moment, finding him again is a little like playing "Where's Waldo?" My nose is red and my fingers are cold. But the holiday season has begun.
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