“DINNER!” I called as I placed the last serving bowl on the table.

My husband Steven and our son Alex came into the dining room.

“Oh, rice! We don’t have that very often.” Steven said as he sat down and laid the napkin on his lap.

Alex sat down too. “Hey, you’re right.” He looked over at me. “Why don’t we have rice more often?”

“Because of you!” I laughed.

Alex looked confused. “I don’t get it.” he looked over at Steven. “I like rice.”

Steven just shook his head. “Your Mom’s just a little OCD when it comes to rice.”

“Oh, come on!” I cried. “OCD? You remember the mess!”

Alex still looked confused. “I’m not following either one of you.”

I handed the platter of chicken cutlets to him. “When you were little…”

“Still in your highchair.” Steven added.

“You would be tossing rice all over the room.” I passed the bowl of broccoli to him. “I must have had the biggest ‘splat mat’ they made, under your chair, and you could still fling it past that!”

Alex took the bowl from me. “I can’t believe you’re still holding that against me!”

“I’m not holding it against you.” I picked up the bowl of rice and took a spoonful. “I’m holding it against me! Do you know how hard it is to get rice off a hardwood floor?”

Alex shook his head. “No.”

“It’s close to impossible!” I handed him the bowl of rice. “You can’t sweep it up, it gets stuck to the broom. You have to get on your hands and knees and try getting it up with a paper towel but there’s still a sticky mess left on the floor so then you have to go get a mop and wash the whole area.” I began cutting a piece of my cutlet. “After you do that a few times you just take rice out of your dinner rotation.”

Alex looked over at Steven. “I think she’s holding a grudge.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Hey, it’s just easier to pick up a dropped potato. That’s all I’m saying.”

“When was the last time I dropped anything on the floor?” Alex asked. “And if I did it was an accident.”

“Of course it’s an accident now. The only time you threw food for fun was when you were in your highchair.”

Alex took the rice bowl and began serving himself another spoonful when a few grains dropped to the table. “You’ve got to be kidding!” he cried as he looked at me shaking his head.

I looked at the few grains and smiled at him. “Try scooping them up from the table.”

Alex took his napkin and sweep them up, leaving a starchy streak behind.

“That’s what I’m talking about. If that had been potatoes you’d be done. Now you’re going to need a wet paper towel to finish the job.”

Alex got up and got a wet paper towel then came back to the table. “It really isn’t that big a deal.”

I smiled at him. “You’re right. When it’s only a few grains on the table. But when it’s the entire bowl on the floor you’d take years to bring it back into rotation too.”

Alex went to throw out the paper towel. “So what else don’t you serve because of me?” he asked as he came back to the table.

I thought about it for a moment. “Nothing.” I said.

Steven laughed. “What about eggplant?”

“I hate eggplant.” Alex had a disgusted looked on his face.

I laughed. “And that’s why we don’t have that anymore.”

My son Alex and I were standing at the front door, waving good-by to my husband Steven, as his car pulled out of our driveway, headed for the airport.

“I sure hope he has fun while he’s away.” I said as I closed the door. I couldn’t help but shiver as the cold from outside was still in the foyer. I rubbed my hands together and looked at the thermostat. “It’s a little chilly in here isn’t it?”

Alex zipped up his sweatshirt. “That’s because we had the front door open. It’ll warm up in the few minutes.”

I looked over at Alex as a realization came over me. “Do you have the thermostat app on your phone?” I asked.

Alex shook his head. “Dad tried to download it on my phone last night but it wouldn’t go through.”

“I don’t have the app on my phone either.” I was feeling a little concerned. “What if we want to change the heat while he’s gone.” I went over to the new thermostat he had installed a few months ago. “Is there a way to manually change it?” As I got closer to the smooth round circle on the wall it lit up and told me it was 29 degrees outside. “Okay, so I know what the temperature is outside. Where does this thing tell me what the temperature is inside?”

Alex went across the room to another device on a shelf in the dining room. “It says it’s 72 degrees inside.”

I shrugged my shoulder. “Well, that seems warm enough. But still, how do we change it?”

“I guess the same way we did before.” Alex started to laugh. “We call Dad and tell him we’re cold.”

I shook my head and sighed. “He’s going across the country to a time zone that’s three hours behind us.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well, it’s only for the weekend. He’ll be back Monday.”

As I watched Alex walk back to his room I couldn’t help but call out to him. “You know we’re suppose to get snow this weekend.”

Alex stopped and looked back at me. “Yeah, I heard that.”

“Do you know how to use the snow blower?” I had a hopeful tone for my question.

Alex shook his head. “Nope.”

“Me either.” I sighed. “I guess we’ll have to hope for a dusting.”

Alex walked back to me and patted me on the shoulder. “We’ll be fine. He’s only going to be gone for a few days.”
“I know. It’s just that I should know how to do these things.”

Alex laughed. “Why? When you go away do you think we’re sitting around wondering who’s going to be cooking dinner?” He gave me another pat on the arm. “Or even crazier saying that we should learn how to cook a pot roast?” He looked at me with a big smile on his face. “Of course not! We just pick up the phone and order out!”

Now I had to laugh. “I guess you’re right. Your Dad’s good at some things and I’m good at others. If it gets cold in here I can always text him to turn up the heat.”

“See. Now you’re getting it! So what are you thinking about for dinner?”

I went over to the take-out menu drawer. “I’m thinking Italian.”

I pulled on my tall rubber boots then grabbed my sweatshirt before walking to the back door. “I’m headed out to do some house cleaning!” I said to my husband Steven as I passed him in the kitchen.

He had all the ingredients for a turkey and Swiss sandwich laid out in front of him. “Okay.” He said as he pulled two slices of bread from the wrapper.

I stopped at the back door and looked over at him. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m leaving the house to do house cleaning?”

Steven looked up and slowly shook his head, he’d just dipped his knife in the mayo jar and had stopped, holding the knife in mid-air with the mayo on it. “I wasn’t. But now that you want me to I will.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m going to clean out the bird house.” I walked over to the kitchen window to look at our little wooden birdhouse tucked in the woods. “I love that we’ve had a family in there every Spring.” I zipped up my sweatshirt and headed to the back door again. “If I do it today it’ll make me feel like Spring is coming!”

“It’s January you know.” Steven laughed.

“I know. But it’s not that cold out today so it’s the perfect time. I don’t want to forget and then our house finches find someplace else to raise their family.”

“They could always use the new birdhouse I got you for Christmas.”

That made me stop. “I feel a little guilty about that new birdhouse.” I admitted.

“What?” Steven had finished making his sandwich and was headed to the kitchen table. “That birdhouse is beautiful! I thought you loved it?”

“I do!” I said as I followed him to the table and sat down with him. “It is beautiful! I love the copper roof and the lines of it are gorgeous!” I cried. “That’s why I wanted to hang it in the front yard, so everyone could see it!”

“So, why do you feel guilty?”

“Well,” I shrugged my shoulders. “I kind of feel like we’ve changed the real estate in the neighborhood. Our backyard birdhouse is more of a working class house, simple and functional. But our new front yard birdhouse is like taking a stroll in a million dollar neighborhood.” I looked at Steven as he took a bite of his sandwich. “What if the back yard birds start to envy the front yard bird family?”

Steven swallowed then shook his head and started to laugh before he took another bite of his sandwich.

I shrugged my shoulders as I got up and went to the back door. I was finally ready to head out and get my house cleaning done when I stopped to add one more thought. “I have to admit when I unwrapped the new one on Christmas I really did think that whoever moves in it will feel like they’ve got the best house in the neighborhood!”

The winter catalog from our local college had arrived packed with dozens of interesting non-credited courses. As I read through all of the different class descriptions I was getting just as excited as my kids used to get when they looked through the holiday toy catalog.

I held the booklet up for my husband Steven to see. “This class says that if I can write my own name they can teach me how to draw!”

Steven started to laugh. “They haven’t seen how you write your name.”

He had a point. No one had ever stopped to admire my penmanship. Truthfully there were times when I had a hard time reading it myself. So I read further down in the course description. “It doesn’t mention that it has to be legible. It only says if you can write it they can teach you. Learning how to sketch has always been a dream of mine.”

Steven didn’t seem that excited. But I figured that was because he was a natural sketch artist. You could hand him a pencil and he could effortlessly sketch a landscape within a few minutes.

I, on the other hand, had a hard time making stick figures. I’d always envied people like him who could capture the scene in pencil then return home where they would transfer that quick sketch into something beautiful using watercolor or pastels.

For years I’d been tempted to take an art class but I was always intimidated. What if I found out that I was un-teachable. I’d had a reoccurring dream that an art instructor was standing next to me looking at the sketch I’d just completed and was quietly trying to ask me if I’d be interested in a refund.

I quickly re-read the course description that I had in my hand. “This is the first time I’ve come across a course that seemed made for me.” I looked over at Steven and smiled. “I think I’ll sign up for it!”

The excitement in my voice made Steven smile. “I think you should too. When does it start?”

I looked at the bottom of the description. I was hardly able to see the dates and times because I was already picturing myself holding my own sketch book, finally able to create realistic pictures of the local flora and fauna. Then I saw the time. “Oh, wait. This could be a problem.” I sighed.

“What?”

“The class starts at 8:00 at night.”

“So?”

“You know I like to be in my pj’s by that time. Especially this time of year when it’s dark at 4:30!” I sighed again. “I’m never going to want to leave our nice warm house and go out in the cold and dark.”

“Even to fulfill one of your dreams?”

I sadly nodded my head. “It’s too bad but I think reality will win on this one.”

Steven just shook his head.

“I love the start of the New Year!” I said as I sat down on the couch next to my husband Steven. “A fresh start! New beginnings! It’s all good!”

Steven laughed. “Are you talking about making some New Year’s resolutions?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “No. I’m talking about my new appointment book!” I held it up for him to see. Then grabbed my 2018 appointment book and pulled out a slip of paper from the back. “Now I get to jot down all the appointments I’ve been keeping on this.” I couldn’t help but smile as I transferred the data. “I know it’s old school and I should be using my phone calendar but there’s just something about an appointment book.” I sighed. “I can’t exactly pinpoint why I love it, but I do.”

Steven just shook his head and held up his hand. “Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost mine. Not only do I use it for appointments but I also have ‘to do’ lists and addresses I need to know.”

I looked over to him and smiled. “See, here’s another reason we’re perfectly matched! Our love for appointment books!”

While I was writing down the last of my future appointment my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. “I have to take this.” I said as I got up to go in the other room. “It’s my sister Liz.”

After our hello’s she asked what we always ask each other at the beginning of our calls. “What are you up to today?” she asked.

“I’m filling in my new appointment book!” I was waiting for her to laugh at me because she’s one of my more tech savvy sisters. Well, to be perfectly honest everyone in my family was more tech savvy then me considering I was still trying to figure out how to use some of the options on my phone. But I was pleasantly surprised when she said, “I love filling out my new appointment book too!”

“Really? I swear I would have thought you’d only use Google calendar on your phone.” I was genuinely surprised. “It never occurred to me that you’d be old school like me!”

“I use my phone for doctor’s appointments and to remind me when someone’s birthday’s coming up but for everything else I use my little black date book.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I realized Steven and I weren’t the only ones left in the world who still swore by ours. “I even keep my old ones.” I admitted.

“Me too!”

“Really?”

“Sure. I just went through mine before I packed them up to move. It’s kind of fun seeing who you were meeting for dinner and the plans you had years ago.”

“It’s like a mini diary.” I added.

After we’d touched on everything else that was happening in our lives we said our good-byes knowing we’d probably catch up again tomorrow.

I went back to the living room where Steven was still writing in his appointment book. “How’s Liz?” he asked as he finished writing and put his book on the coffee table.

“She’s great!” I sat down next to him. “I just found out she’s old school too.”

Steven looked confused. “Old school?”

“She uses an appointment book just like we do.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Now I don’t feel as technically challenged as I did before.”

“Really?” Steven had to laugh. “Because you’re pretty technically challenged.”

“Hey! If my sister still uses an old fashioned appointment book she can’t be that technically advanced either!”

Steven looked surprised. “I wouldn’t let her hear you say that. Didn’t she just teach you how to print from your phone?”

I shrugged my shoulder. “Hey, who knew you could really do that from your phone?”

“Um…” he just shook his head. “I think everyone.”

My son Alex has had trouble sleeping since he was very little. He inherited that trait from his Dad, because I can sleep in the middle of the living room, with the television blasting and everyone walking around living their life, and not move a muscle.

But I’d just purchased a weighted blanket for him and now I was waiting for him to wake up and give me the good news. I was hoping he’d come out and tell me he slept through the night and couldn’t wait to write a testimonial letter to the company thanking them for their miracle blanket.

I looked at the clock, it was already past 11 o’clock in the morning when I finally heard his door open.

I felt like it was Christmas morning I was so excited. “Well?” I asked.

“Eh…” Alex shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too heavy to sleep with.”

“It’s supposed to be heavy!” I cried. “That extra weight is what reduces your stress and helps you sleep better!”

“Well, my stress levels went up when I couldn’t roll over!” Alex laughed as he shook his head. “I was fine when I was on my back but as soon as I went to go on my side I felt trapped!”

“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I thought this would be the answer to your sleep problem.”

Alex came over and patted me on the back. “It’s okay. It was nice that you tried.”

I shook my head. “When you look at the commercials they just drape it over the person and they practically fall asleep in the middle of eating a tuna sandwich!”

“You really didn’t think it was going to be that magical, did you?”

I shook my head again. “No. But everyone I talk to that has one loves it!”

“I like mine.” Alex said. “I just can’t use it at night. But I like it when I take a nap on my couch.”

I looked over at him confused. “We were trying to find something that would help you sleep though the night. Not something for napping.”

“Hey, aren’t you the one who’s always saying a quick nap before dinner is what helps you make it through the rest of the day?” He went into the kitchen to make some coffee.

I just shook my head while I gathered up the shipping boxes the blanket had come in. “I guess we can throw these away now.” I began breaking down the boxes when my husband Steven came in. “Hey, you’re throwing out the boxes so I’m going to guess the blanket was a success?”

I sighed. “Not really.”

Alex called out from the kitchen. “I can’t sleep with it at night but I like it when I’m napping on my couch!”

Steven looked over at me. “Well, at least it’s working some of the time.” He tried to sound encouraging.

“I was hoping he’d tell us it helped him sleep though the night.” I folded the cardboard box in half and began taking apart the next box. “You know, ‘Hey, Mom! I slept like a baby!’”

Steven shrugged his shoulder. “Well, he kind of did tell you that.”

I looked over at him confused. “How?”

“He slept exactly like he did when he was a baby.” Steven smiled. “Short naps throughout the day.”

“Exactly!” Alex called from the kitchen.

“Did you read this?” I asked my husband Steven as we sat on the couch reading the morning newspaper.

Steven looked up over his paper. “Read what?”

“This article about DNA tests?” I held up the article. “Seems like there’s all kinds of drama for some people.”

“We already took ours.” he shrugged his shoulders. “We didn’t have any surprises.”

“Wait a second.” I scanned the paper then put my finger on the part I wanted to tell him about. “It says right here that the police can now go through a database where they can track a criminal by looking at a relative’s DNA!” I had to laugh. “Can you imagine being in that courtroom as they tell the defendant, ‘You can thank your Uncle Louie for getting caught! He wanted to find out if he came from Spain and instead we found you for breaking and entering!’” I looked back over at Steven. “Certainly makes the family reunions a little more tense!”

Steven started to laugh. “Maybe that might make their family reunions better.”

I was still scanning the article “Oh, there’s even more drama!” I cried. “It says one woman got back her results and it said the Dad she’d always known wasn’t her real Dad.” I looked over at Steven. “She called the company because she thought they made a mistake.”

Steven just shook his head. “What did they tell her?” He’d put his paper down and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“She said they were really very kind when they told her she was a NPE.”

“A what?”

“Genealogists call it non-parental event, a NPE.” I read further down. “She felt isolated until she joined a Facebook group of NPE’s and they have over four thousand members so far!” I looked sadly over at Steven. “I guess that’s one way to deal with it.”

Steven just shook his head. “I was surprised when I found out I wasn’t as German as I thought. I can’t imagine finding that out on my results.”

“I guess you could try looking on the bright side.”

Steven looked confused. “What’s the bright side?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “You get a bigger family?”

Steven shook his head. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“Seriously though.” I sighed. “I wasn’t thinking about any of these things when we did ours.” I put the newspaper down and looked over at Steven. “Now the companies are admitting that even though they strip your name and any identifying details, a data breach could reactivate that information.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Steven said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s true.” I sighed again as I looked back at the newspaper. “They even ended the article with ‘caveat emptor’.”

Our son, Alex walked into the room. “Morning! What are you two up to?”

Steven looked over his shoulder. “Your Mom and I were discussing the DNA tests.”

Alex shook his head. “Yeah, I’m never doing one of those.” He stifled a yawn. “It creeps me out that anyone could have my DNA and do anything they wanted with it.” He headed towards the kitchen.

Once he was out of the room I looked over at Steven. “Do we let him know they kinda already have his DNA because we took the test?” I whispered.

Steven slowly shook his head no.

I was in the living room reading the newspaper when I saw a section about holiday cookies.

“Hey, Steven!” I called out to my husband who was in the kitchen making a cup of coffee. “Remember when I made Christmas cookie? Which one was your favorite?”

Steven came into the living room and sat down next to me on the couch. “I guess I’d have to say those lacy oatmeal cookies you used to make.” He took a sip of his coffee before setting the mug down on the coffee table, then leaned back against a pillow. “I remember it took you a dozen tries before you’d get the texture you were looking for.” He shook his head as he smiled. “But when you got it they were so good.”

Our son Alex walked into the room. “What was so good?”

“Your Mom asked me about my favorite Christmas cookie.” Steven patted the spot next to him on the couch and Alex came over to sit. “You know, back when your Mom baked.”

Alex looked confused. “You still bake. We just had brownies the other day.”

Steven shook his head. “I’m talking about starting from scratch baking, not making something from a box.”

“It’s true.” I sighed. “It’s been years since I baked.” I looked over at Alex. “What was your favorite Christmas cookie?”

Alex thought about it a moment. “I really liked the one with the Reese’s peanut butter pieces in them.”

“I made one with Reese’s peanut butter pieces in them?” Now I was confused. “Are you sure you’re not thinking of one of your friends Mom’s?”

Steven started to laugh. “Wow! It really had been a long time since you’ve baked if Alex is remembering someone else’s Moms baking!”

“No!” Alex cried. “I swear it was you! It came in an orange bag just like the chocolate chips bag!”

“Oh yeah…” I nodded as I pulled up the memory. “I’d make chocolate chip batter and put Reese’s in it instead.”

“Exactly!” Alex looked relieved.

“You’re right.” I said as I went back to reading the paper. “They were good, too.”

“Does that mean you’re baking this year?” Alex sounded hopeful.

“Naw.” I sighed. “I really don’t have much of a sweet tooth anymore.”

Steven and Alex looked at one another. “So why did you ask about our favorite cookies?” Alex asked.

“Oh, I was reading an article about holiday cookies.” I turned the paper around for them to see the article. “I was just wondering what you’re favorite ones had been.”

Alex sighed as he got up for the couch. “Well, that was certainly disappointing.”

“I’ll say.” Steven got up and followed him into the kitchen.

“Wait!” I called. “I wasn’t trying to upset anyone!”

Alex peeked his head around corner, a smile on his face. “If I say I’m upset will that guilt you into baking?”

“Probably not.” I shook my head as I got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. “But it might guilt me into making you breakfast.”

“Nobody’s out there.” I sighed as I looked out the window of our back door.

Alex was in the kitchen with me making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Isn’t that good?” he asked as he tossed the peanut butter knife in the sink and picked up his jelly knife. “Would you really like to see somebody in our back yard?”

“What?” I looked over at him then realized what I’d just said. “I wasn’t talking about people. I was talking about the birds.” I looked back out at our woods. “I haven’t seen a bird out there for days.”

“Isn’t that a good thing for you?” he finished making his sandwich and leaned back against the counter and took a bite.

Now I was confused. “I love seeing the birds.”

“That’s not what you told me on our last walk.” Alex reminded me.

It took me a second to remember that I’d told him my first nightmare as a child was after I’d seen the Alfred Hitchcock film called The Birds. “I’m only afraid of dozens of crows sitting in trees or on telephone wires staring at me while secretly plotting against me.”

Alex laughed. “Oh, that makes sense.”

“Hey, don’t laugh.” I cried. “Crows are very smart birds. They can remember faces and if you do something against them they’ve been known to attack!”

Alex looked confused. “What have you ever done to a crow that would make them want to attack you?”

“Nothing!” I shook my head. “That’s not the point. The school children in the movie didn’t do anything either but that didn’t stop them from being attacked as they ran down the road looking for safety!” I shuddered just thinking about that scene again. “But crows weren’t what I was talking about.” I looked out the glass door again and pointed to my feeders. “I filled them hours ago and no one’s come to visit.”

Alex looked outside. “How long were they empty before you filled them?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not sure. I was so busy getting ready for Thanksgiving and then putting up all the Christmas decorations that it completely slipped my mind.” I looked over at him feeling a little ashamed. “It could have been a week or more.”

“Well, you just answered your own question!” He said as he popped the last bite of sandwich in his mouth. “They’re mad at you and they’re boycotting our yard.”

I sighed as I looked over at him. “That’s not true.”

“Hey!” He shook his head. “You’re the one who just said birds can recognize faces and can hold a grudge!”

“I said crows can do that.” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure a black-capped chickadee just wants to eat.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” He kissed the top of my head as he walked out of the kitchen. “They could be in a whole other neighborhood, right this minute, asking each other what they did wrong to make you stop feeding them.”

“Oh, come on!” I cried as he went down the hall. “Now you’re just trying to make me feel guilty!” I called after him. I turned and looked back outside scanning the woods for any sign of a bird when a set of mourning doves landed under my feeder and began pecking at the ground. “Hey Alex!” I called. “It’s going to be okay! A set of mourning doves just landed!”

“That’s great!” he called back. “I was really starting to get worried.”

I smiled. I knew sarcasm when I heard it but I didn’t care as I looked back at the mourning doves pecking at the ground. “I’m just glad you guys are back.” I whispered to them.

It was Thanksgiving morning and while the turkey was in the oven and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was on the television my son Alex walked into the living room. “Happy Thanksgiving.” he said as he leaned over the couch to kiss the top of my head. “It smells really good in here already!”

“Thanks.” I took a sip of my tea. “I’m just taking a little break before I start peeling the turnip and potatoes.”

Alex went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. “What time do you think we’re going to be eating?” he called out to me.

“I’m thinking around 4 o’clock. Does that sound good to you?”

“Sure.” he came in and sat down next to me on the couch. “You sure love watching this parade every year.”

“I really do.” I looked over and smiled at him. “I don’t know what it is about it, but I love it! When you see Santa at the end it really gets you in the Christmas spirit!”

Alex just laughed. “Whatever you say.”

“Hey,” I grabbed the remote to pause the show. “I was wondering if you could help me bring down the Christmas decorations from the attic when you’re finished with your coffee?”

Alex looked confused. “But it’s Thanksgiving. Don’t we at least wait until the weekend after to get them down?”

“Usually, but this year’s different.” I looked over at the dining room table that was already set for dinner. “Usually we have company for Thanksgiving but this year’s it’s only us.”

Alex smiled. “I know! Thanksgiving in sweat pants! I love it!”

I had to laugh. “Yeah, I’m kind of looking forward to it too! But we’re having guests over tomorrow and I’d really like to have the house decorated for them.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like a lot of work to me.”

“It is. But once it’s done the house looks so pretty!” I tried to sound convincing.

Alex shook his head. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great! Thank you!” I turned the parade back on just in time to see one of my favorite balloons floating down the street. “I used to feel so much more connected to New York when your Aunt Lizzy lived there.” I sighed. “I’d watch the snippets they’d show of the Broadway shows that year and maybe see one with her.” I sighed again. “But then she moved to North Carolina.”

“Wait.” Alex looked over at me. “What’s happening here? Two seconds ago you were so happy?”

“I know.” I sighed. “It’s this time of year. One minute you’re super excited about the holiday and the next you’re remembering something that’s not a part of you’re holidays anymore.” I shrugged my shoulders. “It happens as you get older.”

Alex shook his head. “All right. Well, let’s get you happy again.” He put his cup on the coffee table. “Let’s start getting the decorations down.”

“Oh really!” I got up from the couch leaving the television on so we could still hear the parade as I went to pull down the attic stairs. “This is going to be so much fun!” Climbing up the stairs I began pulling the containers that I wanted to hand down to him.

Several minutes later I was handing the last container down when my husband Steven came into the hall. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the Christmas decorations down.” I said. “I want to start decorating right after dinner!”

Steven looked confused. “Aren’t you rushing the season just a little?”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t ask me.”

That’s when I could hear the parade was coming to an end.

“HERE COMES SANTA!” the host of the parade announced. “THE HOLIDAY SEASON HAS OFFICIALLY STARTED!”

I looked at the two of them as I pushed the last container over to the side in the living room. “I think you both just got your answer.”