To do a little singing. I'm not staying overnight. I'm not having a little vacation (sad, I know...). I'm not staying to visit. Just singing. And returning so I can be at work tomorrow morning at 7:30.
I try not to think about the fact that I have to be at work by 7:30 each weekday morning -- and am usually there earlier. It's just too discouraging! It is an act against nature to make my body and my brain simultaneously be functioning that early.
So, singing. A Christmas Cantata at my parents' church. It will be fun, and very Christmasy in the very best of ways: worshipful and wondering at the coming of God's Son into this world. There could almost be NO better image of the spiritual mystery of that coming, than to place a newborn baby in a place filled with animal dung and dirt.