It was first thing in the morning and Steven and I were sitting at the kitchen table. He had his cup of coffee while I drank my tea. “Yuck.” I said after taking a sip. “This tastes awful.” I put my cup down.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know. But when I go to other people’s houses, the cup of tea they make me just tastes better.” I complained.

“Maybe they use different tea?” he suggested.

“I’ve checked. We use the same brand.” I took another sip, and shook my head. “It’s got to be the way they make it.”

Steven looked confused. “How do they make it?”

“They boil the water in a tea kettle.” I said. “I just zap mine in the microwave.”

“Do you put the tea bag in the microwave?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure, it’s quicker.”

“Maybe you should just heat the water in the microwave and then add the tea bag.” Steven suggested.

“Maybe.” I shrugged my shoulder. “We always used to have a kettle, I’m not sure why we gave it up?”

“Because they either have a whistle that wakes the whole house up or they get pitted and gross on the inside.”

“What? I don’t remember that?”

“I do.” Steven looked over at his Keurig. “ Before we got the coffee maker I had to use the kettle for my drip coffee. It was a pain in the neck.”

“Wait,” I felt confused. “We don’t have a tea kettle anymore because you got a different coffee maker?”

“What?” Now it was Steven’s turn to look confused. “No, we got rid of the kettle because it was loud and gross.”

“Really?” I just stared at him.

“Okay, so you don’t want to microwave your tea anymore. I get it.” Steven got up from the table and opened the pots and pans drawer. He took out my small sauce pan, “Here you go.” he said as he placed it on top of the stove. “A kettle is really nothing more than a different shaped pot.” He smiled at me hoping he’d fixed the problem.

“Really?” I said again, just staring.

Finally he sighed, “You want a tea kettle don’t you.”

“I do.” I smiled and perked right up. “I love when I go into someone’s house and I see their cute kettle. It just says; a tea drinker lives here!”

“Oh come on!”

“I’m serious.” I looked over at our kettle-less stove, watching as Steven put the small saucepan back in the drawer. “Besides when someone comes over and you offer them coffee or tea and they say tea it’s just nice to say, ‘I’ll put the kettle on!’ Not, ‘Sure, let me pull out a saucepan or worse yet let me zap some hot water for you’.”

Steven sat back down at the table. “Fine, but could you at least find one that doesn’t whistle?”

I just smiled. I wasn’t promising anything.  

After a quick knock on Alex’s door, I peeked my head into his room. “I’m doing a load of whites. Do you have any laundry you need done?” I asked.

Alex was sitting at his desk working on his computer. “I’m not sure.” he said. “I’ll check in a minute.”

Now, I know when Alex is working on his computer, when he says a minute, it could really mean hours. I looked at the carpet of clothes strewn across his floor. “Are these all dirty?”

He turned around to look at what I was talking about. “Probably.”

“Probably?”

He looked closer. “Okay, maybe.”

I reached down and picked up the first thing I came across. “So this still-folded sweatshirt is dirty?”

I handed it to him and he gave it a quick sniff before tossing it on his bed. “Probably not.”

I picked up a pair of tucked together socks. “I’m going to assume you don’t match and fold used socks.” I handed them to him. “So these are clean too.”

He tossed them on the bed next to the clean sweatshirt.

I was beginning to get frustrated looking at all the dirty/clean clothes on the floor so, I got up and headed for his door. “I’ll be in the laundry room. I’d like you to go through this mess and bring me anything that’s dirty.”

“Sure.” he turned back to his computer.

“Oh, I mean now.” I have to admit there was a slight edge to my voice.

“Oh!” He quickly got up from his chair.

Once I saw he was picking up clothes, I felt it was safe to close his door and go back to my clothes sorting.

A few minutes later the laundry room door opened and about three loads of “dirty” laundry were toss on the floor next to my feet. “Here’s everything I could find.”

I couldn’t believe how much there was. “Are you sure everything in that pile needs to be washed?”

Alex looked surprised that I’d asked. “I guess I could check again.”

“That would be a great idea.”

I watched as he began picking through the pile. He took out one sneaker and a book that must have fallen off his nightstand. Standing back up, holding the two things in his arms, he smiled at me. “Okay, now I can say that what you’re looking at is definitely just dirty clothes.”

I looked at the pile and sighed. It was still three loads of laundry. “Did you check the pockets to make sure there isn’t anything in them that shouldn’t be washed?”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure they’re empty.”

“Okay, but I have to let you know, my rule is, I keep any money I find in the wash.”

Alex dropped his sneaker and book and began searching through the pockets of his jeans.

Now it was my turn to smile.

I’d gathered up all my exercise books that I’d been collecting for years, grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and settled in for some reading.

Steven walked by and saw the stack of books beside me. “Did you just buy all those books?”

I smiled “Nope!” I took a quick sip from my glass of eggnog. “I’ve had some of these books for years. I’m just trying to decide which diet I want to follow this year.” I placed my glass on the coffee table and settled back to reading.

“Well, eggnog and exercise books do seem to go together.” he laughed as sat down next to me and picked up one of the books.

“Hey, I’m not starting this new plan until after all the holiday treats are out of here.” I turned the page on the book I was scanning called “Exercise Ball”. “I think this might be the winner this year.” I showed him the page where the girl was sitting on the ball doing a shoulder press with hand weights. “See? This is perfect! I already own the ball and the yoga mat and I even have the hand weights!” I stopped for a moment. “Now I just have to remember where I put those hand weights.”

“I know where they are.” Steven said shaking his head.

“Oh great, where?”

“For some reason they’re under my side of the bed!” He looked over at me. “I’ve bumped my toe on them a couple of times getting into bed.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

“How’d they get on my side of the bed?”

“Well, they started out on my side, but every time I went to hide another Christmas present under there I must have been pushing the weights over to your side.”

Steven just shook his head as he turned the page on the book he was looking through. “I can’t believe they have a book on how to meditate your way to weight loss.” He pointed to a page.

I glanced over at the page where a woman was sitting cross-legged on the beach, eyes closed and hands pressed together at heart level. “I tried that one last year.” I shook my head. “Obviously meditation and I don’t work well together.” I reached for my glass of eggnog and took another sip. “I guess it was silly to think I could just picture losing the weight and it would happen.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But it was worth a shot, huh?”

Steven closed the book and looked over at mine. “Well, at least this one has you moving.” he agreed.

“Hey! I walk two miles every day!” I corrected him.

“Every day?” he countered.

“Well, every day that the weather is nice enough.”

“Whatever you decide, I’m sure it will be great.” Steven said as he got up from the couch.

“Oh, are you going in the kitchen?” I asked.

“I could. What do you want?”

“Is there any more of the rocky road candy left?” I asked as I went back to thumbing though my book. My question was met with silence. When I looked up, Steven just staring at me.

“I told you I wasn’t starting any of this until all the goodies were out of the house!”  

We were at our annual holiday visit at my sister’s house. All of us were gathered around her kitchen island, when my sister looked over at my wrist and noticed a red burn.

“How’d you get that one?” she asked.

I held it out proudly so she could get a better look. “Christmas morning, cooking bacon.”

My sister pulled up the sleeve of her shirt, showing me several welts on her forearm. “Frying calamari for Christmas Eve dinner.”

I leaned in to get a closer look. “Okay, I have to admit, yours looks worse than mine.”

My sister smiled as she pulled the sleeve down. “I didn’t pat the calamari completely dry before I put it in the oil.”

“That’s a painful lesson learned.” I said as I casually pulled up my own sleeve to show off my old holiday scars. “Remember the years of cookie baking?” I pointed to the fading red lines on my forearm. “I got caught three years in a row with the oven rack.”

By now our boys had grown bored with our conversation. They filled their plates with food and headed for the game room.

That left my sister and her husband and Steven and I. My sister was examining her hand. “You can’t see it anymore, but remember the year I made a Christmas goose?”

Steven leaned back and smiled. “That was the best goose I ever ate!”

My sister smiled. “Thank you!” She gave up looking for the scar. “I had a burn on my hand for years, from the drippings overflowing when I was taking the pan out of the oven.”

“I remember that one.” I shuttered at the memory. “You ate dinner with a cold cloth wrapped around your hand.”

It was my turn again as I showed her my knuckle. “See this little crescent shaped scar?”

She leaned forward to get a better look. “It’s pretty faint.”

“Thank you!” Steven called out.

Everyone looked over at Steven, but I jumped in to explain first. “That was from the can opener disaster.” I said. “I was opening a can of cranberry sauce when the lid cut open my knuckle.” I rubbed the spot of my old wound. “I really should have gone to get stitches but we had a house full of guests.”

Steven jumped in. “It wasn’t as bad as you thought. All I did was put a butterfly bandage on it and you were back at the dining room table in two minutes.”

We’d all gotten quite for a moment. Then my sister looked over at me. “Are we that accident prone?” she asked.

“No!” I was shocked she’d even suggest such a thing. “We love to cook and accidents just happen sometimes!”

Steven leaned over to my brother-in-law. “But, just to be on the safe side, I got her a can opener that doesn’t leave any sharp edges.”

My brother-in-law nodded in agreement. “Smart move.” he said looking at my sister. “I’ll be picking up one of those for you tomorrow.”

My husband Steven and I were headed out the door, for another holiday get-together. “Are we bringing anything?” he asked as we put on our coats.

I walked over to the wine rack and pulled out a bottle that already had a ribbon attached to it.

“This is perfect.” I said.

Steven stopped in front of the door. “Are you re-gifting?”

“It’s a bottle of wine.” I answered.

“But we got that as a Christmas gift.” he argued. “It still has the original bow on it.”

“Food and wine don’t count in re-gifting.”

“Since when?”

“This is their favorite wine.” I said. “Why should I go to the store and buy a bottle of this wine when I have a bottle right here and it already has the bow on it?”

“Because you didn’t buy it.” he argued. “You took it out of our wine rack.”

“That’s where my re-gifting rules come in.”

Steven took a deep breath. “This should be good.”

I tried to ignore his sarcastic tone. “You can’t re-gift homemade food or wine, but anything store bought isn’t considered re-gifting.” I explained. “It’s more like sharing when you bring it to someone else’s house.”

“So if someone made me a scarf I couldn’t re-gift, but it would be okay if the scarf was store bought?”

“I didn’t say that rule applies to outerwear.” I corrected. “I said it was find with food and wine.”

“So what do you do with the clothing gifts that you get and you don’t like?”

“Those have to be worn at least once in front of the giver. Then you can put it in the back of your closet, where it will stay for a few years, before you give it to Goodwill.”

Steven started to laugh. “What about things for the house?” he asked.

“Out on display until the giver sees it, then up in the attic until the next garage sale.”

“What about gift certificates?”

“Oh come on, Steven! What’s not to like about a gift certificate?”

“So you mean to tell me you’ve only re-gifted food and wine?”

“I’m telling you those are the only two things you can re-gift. And those can only go to someone who loves that type of wine or food.”

Steven looked at the bottle of wine tucked under my arm. “Do you make these rules up as you go?” he asked.

“Yes, but only when we’re late for a party and I forgot to get them a hostess gift.” 

I was sitting on the couch, tucked under a blanket and scrolling through my Facebook feed, when Steven came into the living room and sat down next to me.

“Check this out.” I said as I handed him my phone and gave him a piece of my blanket.

“What am I looking at?” he asked putting him feet up on the coffee table and draping the blanket over his legs.

“It’s a really great Christmas display.” I tapped the screen to start the video.

We both watched as the synchronized music and light show began. The entire house began it’s flashing light display while a rock band covered a pumped up version of Carol Of The Bells. I couldn’t help bobbing my head along with the music.

Four minutes later, when the video ended, I looked at Steven. “Wasn’t that great?”

Steven handed me back my phone. “It was pretty good.” he said.

“The house is only forty minutes away.” I said. “Let’s go look at it.” I suggested.

Steven looked confused. “We just looked at it.”

“I know,” I was scrolling though Facebook again. “But I’m sure it’s even better in person.”

“Really?” Steven didn’t sound convinced. “You mean driving forty minutes to wait in the traffic leading up to the house, finding a parking space a dozen blocks away and walking in the freezing cold is going to be better than what we just saw?”

It made me stop for a minute, because he had a point. But then I got nostalgic. “Don’t you remember how much fun we used to have bundling up the boys and putting them in the back seat with bags of snacks while we drove all over Monmouth County looking at the lights?”

“Sure, it was fun.” Steven said, taking out his phone and logging onto his Facebook account. “But that was before everyone posted pictures of their decorated houses.” He scrolled though his feed. “One of my clients posted this great shot.” He handed me his phone to show me the house. It had lights in every tree and bush in the front yard. The entire house was outlined in lights and a full sized Santa was standing at the front door ready to welcome all their holiday visitors.

“Wow, that’s really great.” I handed him back his phone.

“I know! They had a company come in and put all the lights up. It took them two days to get it all done.”

We were both scrolling though our feeds, looking for more houses, when Alex came into the room. “What are you two up to?” he asked.

“We’re traveling around the county looking at everyone’s Christmas lights.” Steven and I both held up our phones to show him. “Want to come with us?”

Alex looked over our shoulders to see. “This is how you look at Christmas lights now?”

“Sure.” Steven said. “No traffic, no freezing cold weather. What’s not to like?”

Alex looked over at me. “What about the snacks and hot chocolate after? That used to be the best part.”

“That’s a great idea!” I got up from the couch and looked at Steven. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate. Do you want some?”

“Sure.” Alex and Steven said together.

I handed Steven my phone. “Show Alex that great one I showed you with the music.”

Dinner was done and I was putting my plate in the dishwasher when I turned to Alex and asked, “Do you have room for dessert? I have cookies.”

“Really?” Alex sounded surprised as he placed his plate in the sink.

I shook my head and gave him the stink eye as I pointed to his plate and opened the door to the dishwasher. “Oh, sorry.” he took his plate out of the sink and put it in the dishwasher. “I was thrown when you said you made cookies.” he explained.

“What?” Now I was confused. “I didn’t say I made cookies.” I opened the cabinet and handed him a sleeve of store bought chocolate chip cookies. “I said I had cookies.”

“Oh, right. What was I thinking?” he took the sleeve and went back to the table.

By now Steven was clearing his dishes. “Remember when your Mom used to bake all the time?”

Alex shook his head. “Not really?” He tore open the sleeve and took a cookie out. “But I’m sure these are just as good as the ones you say she baked.” He took a bite of the cookie and smiled at me.

“Oh come on!” I cried. “I can’t believe you can’t remember when I baked.”

Steven took out a glass and held it up. “Milk?” he asked Alex.

“Sure.”

Steven took the milk out of the refrigerator and began to pour it into two glasses. “I have to say your Mom’s chocolate chips cookies were really good.”

“Thank you.” I said as I went back to the table and sat down. “I can’t believe you don’t remember when I baked?” I reached for one of the cookies in the sleeve.

“Nope.” Alex shook his head as he reached for the glass of milk Steven held out to him. “But like I said, these are fine.” He dunked half his cookie in the milk.

“No, there not.” I placed my cookie on the napkin in front of me. “My cookies were so much better then these!”

“They were.” Steven dunked his cookie in his glass of milk.

“I believe you.” Alex said. “I’m just telling you I don’t remember them.”

Now I was getting frustrated. “It can’t be that long since I’ve baked.” I argued. “I used to bake dozens and dozens of cookies around the holidays.” I looked at Steven for confirmation. “Remember, I used to give them out as gifts.”

Steven nodded his head. “Everyone loved them.” he took a bite of his milk dripping cookie. “They were a perfect combination of chewy and crunchy.”

“Thank you!” I looked back at Alex. “But that’s also the reason I stopped baking.” I explained. “I was making so many, it got overwhelming. Besides, everyone in my family was baking. It was getting ridiculous with how many cookies we had, so I decided to take some holiday pressure off myself and cut out the cookie baking.”

Alex nodded. “I completely understand.” he said taking another cookie from the sleeve. “Like I said before, these are fine.”

“No they’re NOT!” I wanted to swat the cookie from his hand but instead I got up and went over to the grocery list. “I’m going to make you real chocolate chip cookies!” I began writing down everything I’d need. “No one’s going to tell me homemade cookies aren’t a thousand times better than store bought.”

I looked back at the table where Steven and Alex were smiling at one another. “I know exactly what the two of you just did.” I said as I finished writing on the shopping list. “But you’re right. It has been too long since I baked.”

I was hunched over the coffee table with my address book in front of me, frantically scribbling names and addresses on envelopes, when Steven walked into the room.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“The holiday cards.” I grumbled.

“You don’t seem like you’re having much fun.” he said as he sat down next to me.

“I’m not.” I complained. “I’m already late getting them out! I forgot to make copies of all the different pictures I wanted to tuck into certain people’s cards, I don’t have the energy or brain power to write a personalized note in each card, like I was hoping to do and…” I began shaking the pen furiously seeing if any more ink would come out before I had to search for another one. “This is the second pen I’ve used that’s run out of ink!” I tossed the empty pen across the coffee table in disgust.

Steven smiled as he grabbed the remote for the television. “No one says you have to send them out this year.”

“Of course I have to send them out!” I cried. “I’ve had these cards sitting on my desk for the past two months!”

“Do you really think anyone’s going to notice if you miss this one year?” he asked as he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

“I’ve already gotten a call!” I reached over and pulled out another pen for the drawer of a side table.

“Someone called you to say they haven’t gotten a card from you yet?” Steven looked confused.

“My sister called me yesterday to tell me that I’m not the first holiday card she’s gotten this year.” I scribbled on the back of one of the misaddressed envelopes to make sure the new pen was working. “I’m always the first card for her and somebody beat me!”

“So you’re not her first card, who cares?”

“I don’t think you understand, Steven. I’ve been her first card for the past six years. It’s my small claim to fame. I’m not real happy about losing that!”

“So maybe you’ll be the first card for somebody else.”

“Why do you think I’m working so hard to get them out now?” I hunched over the coffee table and began addressing envelopes again. “If I hurry, I still have a chance to be the first one for my other sister.”

I stopped for a moment and began shaking my writing hand. “I think my fingers are beginning to cramp.” I whined.

Steven rubbed the back of my neck. “As long as you’re having fun, that’s all that counts.” he said.

It was first thing in the morning and I met Steven out in the kitchen. “You know what today is, don’t you?” I asked him as I got my tea cup out of the cabinet.

“Hmm…the day after Thanksgiving?” he asked as he handed me a tea bag.

“You know what we always do on the day after Thanksgiving?” I said as put the kettle on and turned around to see him trying to quietly leave the kitchen. “Oh, no you don’t!” I cried.

“Oh, come on! The boys aren’t even up yet!” he complained as he stopped and turned around to face me. “Can’t we just enjoy one more day of Thanksgiving and start tomorrow?”

I shook my head. “Nope. It’s tradition.”

Steven shook his head. “Fine, we’ll get all the Christmas decorations down from the attic as soon as they’re all up.”

I smiled, then went over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” I said before I went over to the front window. “I can’t wait to throw out all our dead mums and deflated pumpkins.”

Steven stood next to me as we both looked at the house across the street from us. “How come their mums are still alive?” he asked. “Even their pumpkins look better then ours.”

“They must have some special power when it comes to mums.” I reasoned.

Steven looked over at me. “Or they water theirs.” he suggested.

The kettle began to whistle and I turned around to go back to the kitchen. “I watered ours.” I said. “They’re just really needy plants.”

Steven followed me to the kitchen. “How often did you water them?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” I poured the water into my cup, then tried to change the subject. “That’s what’s so great about today. It’s a whole new holiday to decorate for!”

“Yeah…” Steven didn’t sound thrilled.

“I don’t know what your complaining about.” I said. “I’m the one who does all the work. You guys just bring the containers down from the attic. I’m the one who spends the entire day transforming the house for the holidays!”

“And we appreciate that.” Steven said. “But why can’t we just do it over the weekend?”

“And break our tradition?”

“It’s not our tradition, it’s yours.”

I thought about it for a moment. “I guess I could spend today just putting away all the Thanksgiving decorations.” I looked around the house. “As long as you promise to help me over the weekend.”

“Promise.” he held one hand in the air while the other was on his heart.

I wasn’t happy but I finally agreed. “Okay, fine.”

Steven smiled. “Great! So now that you don’t have all of that work ahead of you today, maybe you could get some grocery shopping done.” he suggested. “Were out of everything.”

“Are you kidding?” I opened the refrigerator. “It’s still packed with leftovers from yesterday!” I cried.

“I know, but we already had that dinner three times yesterday.” he complained as he moved the storage containers around on the shelves to make room for grocery shopping. “Can’t we have something different for dinner tonight?”

I smiled as I slowly closed the refrigerator door. “Hey.” I reminded him. “It was your idea to extend Thanksgiving for one more day.”

My son Alex and I were on an early evening walk through our neighborhood when I happened to notice a lottery ticket laying in the gutter. I pointed it out to him. “Looks like someone got mad when it turned out to be a loser.”

Alex looked down. “How do you know it’s a loser?” he asked. “Maybe they were on their way to cash it in when it blew out of their window?”

The ticket was several feet behind us when I stopped walking. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope.” he shook his head. “You never know.”

I looked back at the ticket as a puff of wind caught it and I watched it tumble further down the street. I looked back at Alex. “Why don’t you run and get it and we’ll check the numbers when we get home.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not that important to me.”

“Are you kidding!” I couldn’t believe my ears. “What if it really is a winner?” I cried.

“Just forget about it.” Alex said and began walking again.

The wind was taking it farther away from us. “Oh forget it!” I began jogging back. “I can’t just forget about it!” I called over my shoulder.

When I reached the ticket it was folded in half but didn’t seem to have any damage. I opened it up as I jogged back to Alex. “It’s a Power ball.” I said holding it out to him.

Alex started to laugh. “I knew you couldn’t pass it up.”

We began walking again as I slipped the ticket into my pocket. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on!” he was still laughing. “I know you! You’ll stop and pick up a penny!”

I wasn’t finding it as funny as he was. “Oh yeah?”

“The only question I had was how far you would let the wind take it before you couldn’t stand it anymore and had to go get it!” Alex patted my arm. “We all know how you are about things like that.”

I still wasn’t seeing the humor. “Okay…just for that if this ticket turns out to be a winner I’m not sharing the money with you!” I said feeling a little huffy.

Alex started to laugh harder. “Yes you will!” he cried. “You won’t be able to help yourself!” I looked over to see him shaking his head. “You don’t realize how well we know you.”

“Okay, fine.” I said as I patted the pocket with the ticket in it. “Just for that your Dad and I are going to go on a trip by ourselves and we’re leave you and your brother home with frozen pizzas!” I was hoping he was feeling the sting of the punishment I’d just inflicted.

Alex laugh even harder. “And you’re already spending the money!” He was laughing so hard he was shaking. “You and Dad crack me up! You always have vacation plans when you buy lottery tickets.”

We were at the end of our street, our walk was almost done. I patted my pocket again. “You’ll see…it’ll be frozen pizzas for you.”

We walked into the house and I called for Steven. “Guess what we found on our walk?” I called out.

Steven came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “What?”

“A lottery ticket!” I cried holding it out for him to see.

“Great!” he flipped the towel over his shoulder and took the ticket from me. “I’ll go online to see if it’s a winner.”

I realized I was holding my breath as he scrolled through his phone.

“Nope…it’s a loser.” he said as he crumpled it up and handed it back to me.

My shoulders slumped as took the ticket back from him.

“Hey,” Alex said as he patted me on the shoulder. “Look on the bright side. You’re keeping our neighborhood streets litter free.”