Somewhere deep inside me I find it in poor tast to rate something that is a short story and most of all free.

But this story really rubbed me wrong. Well not all of it. But between this sentence:

But—he realized as his breath came out in pants and his mind flew to the sky with
pleasure—that maybe was a good thing. He and Dave had been married for six years and
though it hadn’t all been bliss, it had been beautiful and great. The accident had opened
his eyes to a few things he hadn’t wanted to realize. Maybe they’d had enough of
just them. Maybe it was time for someone else to help add some cheer and happiness into
the house.
Jesse thought about those bright red curls and that big smile under innocent eyes
and thought that, just maybe, Abigail would be the one to help them finally heal.

Children aren't born to 'heal' anything. They are just born and as parents you don't get to put your expectations on a child. They just want to be loved and you know, get food and stuff. That last sentence really killed that little enjoyment I had in the story and the whole 'Jeej adoption is so much fun! Because the kid wanted to be adopted! Chrismas!'-feeling. I wanted to facepalm so so hard.

Why? Because adopting a kid is modderfokking hard. It's one of those things no one talk about because, I don't know, pride? What people won't tell you is that children that get adopted have issues. More than one. And the older they are/get the more they will have.
It's like getting a book with an awesome book cover and an attractive blurb but then you discover that there are pages missing. Crucial pages on which the plot of the story was told. And the author can't tell you because: reasons.
I'm not saying that raising adopted children is harder. But it is different. A lot. Like the whole where do I come from question? Well that question is now not just potentially awkward because you don't want to tell about the birds and bees.

So when this happened:

“You’re my new daddies?” Abigail whispered. “Really?” She felt her eyes fill
with tears and she flung herself forward, hugging the legs of the Santa-man. He picked
her up and held her tight and then she felt the blond man join them.
She would have been happy with just one daddy, or one mommy, but two
daddies? It was like Mother Helen had often said would happen if she was just patient—a
miracle.
Abigail sniffed loudly. “Thank you, Santa,” she said into her new daddy’s
shoulder.
Her other daddy kissed her forehead. “Come on,” he said. “We still have presents
to unwrap.”

I got creeped out. If this happened in real life? I would sent strongly advice that the whole family go to therapy. NOW.

But alas this is a Christmas story. So if you can let go off all those things*, you have a cute, short story.

*Also you're awesome if you can. Either because you haven't encounter the stuff that irked me or you're just the kind of person who can let those things go. ( )