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.”

Steven and I were sitting on the couch reading the morning paper. “I hate turning the clocks back!” Steven grumbled as he pointed to the reminder at the top of the newspaper.

“Not me!” I cried. “I love it!”

Steven looked over at me, I could see the confusion on his face. “Since when? You hate winter.”

“That’s true.” I took another section of the paper, from the pile between us.

“You hate cold, you hate snow.” Steven began listing all my dislikes. “You hate ice. You hate shoveling, you hate not being able to sit out on the porch.”

I held up my hand to stop him from continuing. “All true.” I said. “But this year I’ve decided there’s some good things that will happen when we change the clocks so, I’ve changed my mind.”

“What good things?”

“Well, I’ll feel like cooking more.” I looked over at him and smiled. “You like that, don’t you?”

He nodded in agreement. “I do like that.”

“So now the house is going to be filled with the smells of stews, pots of sauce, and roasts.” I nodded, slowly bringing him around to what I was thinking.

“That does sound nice.” He looked confused again. “But why are you thinking turning the clocks back is going to make you cook more?”

“It isn’t.” I admitted. “It’s just going to make me feel less guilty eating.”

“Less guilty?”
“Well after my spring, summer and fall diets all failed.” I explained. “I’ve decided I’m giving up the diet for the winter and embracing the layered, oversized, flaw-hiding clothes instead.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh…completely serious.” I said. “I’m also looking forward to coming home from work and getting right into my pajamas.” We switched sections of newspapers. “If you do that when it’s still light outside people think you’re a slug.” I adjusted the pillow behind my back. “But when it’s dark at 4:30 everyone thinks you’re just getting snugly.” I looked over at Steven and smiled. “Gotta love that, right?”

Steven just shook his head.

“I’m not saying I’m completely giving up on losing some weight.” I added. “I’m just giving myself a little break.”

“How long of a break?”

“Oh…I’m thinking maybe until January when all the weight loss commercials come on and make you feel bad about yourself.” I looked over at Steven. “So a diet break? You in?”

“Well, we do have to make it through Thanksgiving and Christmas.” he said. “Those are always tough for us.”

“Exactly!” I said. “See if we both agree, then neither one of us has to feel bad.”

“That’s true.” he finally shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? I’m in.”

“See turning the clocks back is going to be great!” I smiled over at him. “Let’s celebrate!”

“Celebrate? How?”

“Meet me here on the couch Monday night, right after work. Wear your pajamas and we’ll order in!”

“Wait, I thought you said you were looking forward to cooking?”

“I can cook anytime.” I reminded him. “But this is a celebration!”

Steven and I were on a weekend getaway to Cape May. We stopped at Cape May Point Park and while we wandered through the different paths, Steven snapped pictures. An hour or so later we were back in the car. “Can I see the photo’s you took?”

“Sure.” He began swiping through his photos.

“Oh…” I cried when I saw one I loved. “Can you send me that one! I want to post it!”

Moments later it was on my Facebook feed. “Great! Thanks.” I turned off my phone and we headed to our next destination.

After a full day of sightseeing Steven and I were finally sitting at dinner and I began to scroll through my Facebook feed. “You know it’s always kind of nice to see how many people ‘like’ a picture you post.”

Steven moved his bread plate so the server could put down his salad.

“Oh look,” I cried. “Karen liked my picture! I’ve owed her a phone call for so long”

“So why haven’t you called her?”

“Because we have so much catching up to do that both of us would have to have at least an hour of free time.” I complained.

“Just call and set up a time.”

“I know I really should.” I pushed my salad to the side and continued to scroll. “Whenever she posts a picture of somewhere she’s gone I always hit the ‘like’ button.” I looked at Steven and shrugged my shoulders. “So, in a way, I feel like I’m keeping up with her.”

“Really?”

“No, not really.” I said sadly, then clicked off my phone and began to eat my salad. “Maybe I should just post to her time-line and see when it’s a good time for her to talk?” I picked up my phone again and began typing. “Maybe she has some free time this weekend.”

“That’s a good idea.” By now our main course had arrived.

“That’s the problem with Facebook.” I continued. I thanked the server then looked back at Steven. “You think you’re keeping in touch with friends by liking their posts. You see who has a birthday, a graduation, who’s working on their house but you don’t have a chance to ask any questions. All you do is hit ‘like’ and move on. No one really talks to each other any more.”

We finished dinner and while we waited for the bill I went back to Facebook to check my feed.

“Oh my gosh I love it!” I cried.

“What?”

“You know how I just wrote on Karen’s time-line that I owed her a phone call? That I’d love to catch up?”

Steven looked confused. “Yeah?”

“She just ‘liked’ my post!”  

My son Alex and I were headed out to pick up breakfast. I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter. “I’ll drive if you run in and pick up the bagels.” I said as I headed for the front door.

Alex slipped on his shoes and grabbed a baseball cap, “Sounds good to me.” he followed me to the car.

We weren’t even half way down our street before Alex had the radio on and was quickly switching from station to station.

“Oh, I like that song.” I said.

But he’d already moved on to the next station. “There has to be something better than that.” he reasoned as he hit button after button.

“Wait,” I complained “You’re switching too fast. I can’t figure out what song it is before you switch again.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find the right station.” The switching continued for a few more minutes before he finally turned the radio off and leaned back against the seat. “The radio’s broken.” he sighed.

I looked over at him. “Broken?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I can’t find anything worth listening to. So as far as I’m concerned it’s broken.”

I could only shake my head. “You know when I was growing up the person who decided what was listened to in the car was the person driving.” I reached over and turned the radio back on. The first station I clicked on was a classical station. “See I fixed the broken radio.”

“Humm…” Alex leaned over and turned the air conditioning off and opened his window.

I reached over and turned the air back on. “The temperature of the car was also decided by the person driving.” I explained as I pushed the button on my door that closed his window.

“But it’s beautiful out.” he said. “Wouldn’t you rather have the windows open?”

I had to admit he was right. I’d been using the air conditioning for so long it had become a habit. “I guess we could try the windows.”

He turned the air off while I lowered the windows.

We’d only driven for a few minutes before I pulled up next to another car at a stop light. Alex quickly reached over and turned off the radio. “Hey!” I cried. “I was listening to that.”

“In a minute.” He began putting his window up. “Can you close your window, I’ll turn the air back on.”

“What?” I looked over at him. “You just said you wanted the windows down because it’s a beautiful day?”

“I know.” He nodded his head to the car next to us at the stop light. It was filled with a group of guys about his age.

It took me a minute to figure out the problem but when I finally did I happily put my window up. “Sorry about that.” I started to laugh. “I guess sitting in a car listening to classical music with your Mom is a little tough on the image huh?”

“The classical station is a little embarrassing.” he admitted. “But hanging out with you isn’t bad at all.”

“Ahhh.” I almost felt a little teary. “Thanks, I like hanging out with you too!” I reached over and turned off the radio. “Looks like it’s broken again.” I laughed as I opened the windows.

Alex smiled. “I told you, that thing breaks all the time.”