My husband, Steven and our two boys and I were sitting down to dinner when our oldest son Max looked over at me and asked. “What’s on your face?”

Now of course my first instinct was to answer, in as whinny little kids voice, “What’s on YOUR face?” But I’m not four years old so instead I answered, “I don’t know, what’s it look like to you?”

“It looks like glitter.” he said.

“Oh, that’s because I was wrapping presents and and I got a few gift bags with glitter on them.”

All three of my guys groaned.

“Didn’t we ask you not to bring any more glitter into the house?” Steven asked as he wiped his hand along the tabletop and then looked at his hand. “Great.” he said as he held it up for me to see. “Glitter!”

“Wow, I didn’t even wrap the presents on this table.” I wiped my hand along the table and looked to see if I’d get any on me. Sure enough I did. “I wonder how that got there?”

“Because it’s GLITTER!” Alex said. “It gets on everything!” He pushed away from the table and began inspecting his arms. Max and Steven began doing the same thing.

“Oh come on! It’s pretty!” I said as I tried to brush the few flecks off my hands and was having trouble doing it. “These things sure do stick.” Now I was trying to scrape them off with my nail.

“Exactly!” Steven said. “I’m still finding them on me from weeks ago when you wrote out our Christmas cards.”

“Why would anyone want to get a Christmas card with glitter on it?” Alex asked as he finally gave up the glitter search and went back to eating dinner.

“Who knows?” Steven answered. “It’s like a booby trap in an envelope. Why not just fill the card full of confetti so when they open it up it fly’s all over their house.”

Max and Alex both liked that idea and began to laugh.

“Because that would just make a mess and it wouldn’t make the card pretty.” I argued. “Besides instead of complaining you should be thanking me for taking the time for find a nice card, write a special note in it, and send it to all of our friends.”

“I did thank you.” Steven said. “But I still don’t think anyone wants a glitter card.”

Alex looked over at Steven. “You have glitter on your face.” he said.

“Are you kidding!” Steven said as he looked back at me.

“No you don’t.” I said. But he did. It was a tiny silver speck right on the end of his nose.

“Yes he does.” Max said.

“Neither of you are helping right now.” I said as I passed Alex the platter of meat.

“It’s all part of the holiday.” I reasoned. “The tree drops it’s needles, the credit card bills go up and you find a few specks of glitter around the house.”

“We have an artificial tree.” Alex said.

“It still drops needles!” I cried.

“Fine.” Alex shrugged his shoulders as he passed the platter to his brother.

“All we’re asking is for you to make this a glitter-free house during the holidays.” Steven said. “I really don’t think that’s a lot to ask.”

“Yeah!” Max and Alex said in unison.

“I can’t believe you three.” I complain but suddenly realized there was something in my eye, “I’ll be right back.” I said as I got up from the table. “Something got under my contact.”

As I walked towards the bathroom I could hear Max say, “Five bucks says it’s glitter.”

I could hear the other two laughing.

Normally I would have called back that I could still hear them, but my eye hurt too much and I was pretty sure they were right.

I wrote this piece for the Two River Times in 1992…have to say there isn’t a Christmas that goes by that I don’t think about this.

I can still see Dad, Christmas morning, sitting in our overstuffed chair wearing his blue striped cotton robe, holding his camera and looking out the window.

We kids all knew who he was waiting for. Dad was waiting for Santa, and he wasn’t the only one anxious to see him. So we all kept Dad company, in that front room, playing with our new toys and waiting.

Time passed slowly before we would finally hear the fire truck. We always heard it long before it was anywhere in sight. The anticipation would build until, sirens screaming, the big red truck with Santa on board was at the end of our driveway.

While Santa walked down the graveled driveway, Dad would be snapping pictures of him, while my brothers and sisters and I were making the frantic scramble to the front door, each of us trying to be the first to say Merry Christmas to our morning visitor. Santa always had a little package for each of us, given with a warm smile and a wish for a happy day. Then with a quick wave good-by he was off finish his rounds around town.

It was an event that was repeated each year at our house until we kids began to outgrow Santa.

It’s the Christmas that Dad still hung on to the hope that my youngest brother, Bo, was still young enough for the Santa visit, that’s clearest to me. That Christmas morning as the hours went by and Santa never came, when we all realized Bo was too old for Santa to drop by. The disappointment I saw on Dad’s face made me realize only Dad was young enough to need Santa’s visit any more. It broke my heart to watch Dad get up from his chair to put away his camera. He stopped for one last look down our driveway, then he turned back and saw me watching him. He smiled and held out his hand, asking if I was ready for the big Monopoly game that was being set up in the dining room. I took his hand and he gave it a squeeze.

I knew Dad would be all right. But the memory of his disappointment, that year, always stayed with me.

Now I’m married and my husband, our two small sons and I live in the house I grew up in. Our town still has the Fireman Santa come on Christmas morning and it was as I was filling out the forms that would bring Santa to our door on Christmas Day, that I thought of Dad.

Dad started a tradition. A tradition that’s continuing with his grandsons. And even though Dad passed away a few years ago, he’ll be with me while I’m waiting for Santa this year.

Christmas morning will be a mixture of memories for me. New ones being made with my sons. But old ones being replayed of my own visits from the Fireman Santa. Especially the memory of Dad sitting in that overstuffed chair, wearing his blue striped robe and holding his camera.

“I’m going to the mall to get some shopping done!” I called out to no one in particular as I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.

“Hey, I wanted to pick up a video game for Max.” Alex called. “Can I come with you?”

“Sure, if you hurry. It’s going to be a madhouse there today.”

As Alex was getting his shoes on, Steven came up from the basement. “Did I hear you say you’re going to the mall?”

“Alex and I are both going.” I answered.

“Great. I’ll come with you.” he said.

“Did you need to get something?” I asked.

“No. But I’m not doing anything right now so I might as well come along.”

Now I know that this might sound like a fun family outing to some people. But when I need to get shopping done I’m not the “the-more-the-merrier” type of person. I really just wanted to run to the mall, grab a few thing and come right back. But now, with my helpers coming with me, I’d have to re-adjust my thinking.

As we got closer to the mall the traffic got heavier. “I wonder if there’s even going to be a place to park?” Steven said, sounding doubtful as we inched closer to the mall’s entrance.

“It’s that time of year.” I tried not to sound impatient but knew Steven wasn’t one for crowds. “You have to figure it’s going to be packed.” After circling the parking lot a few times I finally found a spot and pulled in.

“Let’s get the video game for Max first.” I suggested.

Weaving our way through the crowds, we made our way to the video store and then waited patiently on the endless line for our turn at the counter. Once the video game was purchased I could see both my guys were done with shopping. So, I wasn’t surprised to hear their groans when I told them I had several stores to go to for all the things I needed to get.

Thankfully, that’s when I spotted an empty couch in the middle of the atrium. “Why don’t you two wait there while I finish shopping?”

“Sounds good to me!” Steven headed for the couch with Alex right behind him.

Once the boys were settled I began to get some serious shopping done. After each store I’d head back to the couch, hand them the bag and head off in another direction.

When I had the final thing marked off my list I went to collect my guys. There they were with all the bags I’d piled around them, deep in a conversation.

“Are you two ready to leave?” I asked.

“Wow! You’re done already?” Steven seemed surprised.

“I have to thank both of you.” I said. “I have to admit that I was dreading this shopping trip with you two, but there’s no way I could have gotten all this done without you.”

Steven and Alex looked at one another. I’m sure, at first, they thought I was kidding. But as I began loading their arms with all the bags that I’d stacked around their feet they realized I wasn’t.

“Hey, anytime.” Alex said as I handed him another bag to carry.

“No problem.” Steven said a I loaded his arms with the rest of my purchases.

I had to smile as we all headed out to the parking lot. It was the first time I’d ever done a huge shopping trip and was able to walk out of the mall the exact same way I’d walked in – just carrying my purse!

I looked around my house and smiled when I saw all that I’d accomplished getting ready for the Christmas season. The tree was up and the inside of the house was completely decorated.

But it was the list of all the things that still needed to be done that had me feeling overwhelmed. There was a lot more to do before the “magic” of Christmas was ready to happen. I sighed as I thought about that long list and did what I think anyone else would do when faced with that much work.

I laid down on the couch to take a nap.

I smiled again as I tucked my favorite blanket around me and closed my eyes. I could hear someone in the kitchen making a snack, while the others were playing video games, laughing and having a good time.

It wasn’t long before the house got strangely quiet. I was almost ready to doze off when I heard my husband Steven and my two boys, Alex and Max, whispering in the dining room.

I strained my ears to hear what they were talking about.

“Do you thinks she’s asleep?” Max asked.

“Looks like it.” Steven confirmed.

“Do you think she’s going to make dinner tonight?” Alex whispered.

“I don’t know. It’s getting pretty late.” Steven answered.

“Do you think she’s going to make Christmas cookies this year?” Max asked.

“Not a clue.” Steven said.

“Aren’t the presents usually wrapped and under the tree by now?” Alex asked.

“Yup.” Steven answered again.

“What do you think has happened this year?” Alex asked.

“I think she just got busy with other things.” Steven answered.

I had to try and not smile at that one. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying their conversation, wondering where it was going to go.

“I saw the Christmas cards on the coffee table the other day.” Alex said.

“She asked for a roll of stamps.” Steven added. “So the cards got done.”

“Who cares about cards.” Max complained. “I’d rather have her bake cookies then write out Christmas cards.” I tried not to smile as I pictured Alex nodding in agreement on that one.

“Maybe we should help her?” Steven suggested.

There was no answer for several moments. I tried not to move, wondering who was going to answer that one first.

“What could we do?” Max sounded confused.

“Yeah.” Alex agreed. “It’s not like either of us are going to do any baking anytime soon.”

I could hear Max laugh.

“I’m not talking about baking.” Steven said. “Maybe see if she needs help with the gift wrapping.” Steven suggested. “Or we could offer to do some of the shopping for her.”

Those suggestions were met with more silence.

Finally Alex made his own suggestion. “Maybe we could make dinner tonight?”

Max quickly added, “By make, you mean order out, right?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steven said. “One of you get the take-out menus.”

“I say pizza.” Max said.

“What about ribs?” Alex added.

I smiled as I got more comfortable. They just found the perfect way to help me. Now I had, at least, forty-five minutes to actually get a nap before dinner came.

I’d have to remember to thank them when I woke up.

I walked out into the kitchen to find my son Max with a brick of cheddar cheese in one hand and a knife in the other. He’d just sliced a piece off and was ready to pop it into his mouth.

“DON’T EAT THAT!” I screamed. “That’s for the fruit and cheese platter I’m serving our company tomorrow!”

“Fruit and cheese?” he asked. “I’m thinking the grapes I just ate were for that too, huh?”

“Oh come on!” I cried. “Of course those things are for company. When do we ever have bricks of cheese laying around?”

“I know!” Max complained. “Everybody in this house likes cheese and you only buy it when we’re going to have company.”

“So if you know that why are you eating it?” I asked.

Another slice of cheese was halfway to his mouth when he stopped. He was caught, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. “If you know how much we like it why don’t you buy extra so you won’t get mad when we open the package.” he countered.

“Because I’ve already tried that and you just eat two bricks of cheese instead of the one.” I answered.

“I do like cheese.” Max said in his defense.

Just then my husband Steven came into the kitchen. “What’s all the yelling about?” he asked.

“I’m eating cheese.” Max said popping another piece in his mouth.

“STOP EATING THAT!” I yelled, then looked over at Steven “I was saving that for our company tomorrow.” I explained.

“You’re going to have to go out and get more cheese now anyway.” Max reasoned. “So why can’t I have this one?”

“He got a point.” Steven said as he shrugged his shoulders.

I looked at Steven, ready to hurt him too. “Because I wasn’t planning on going to the grocery store again.” I complained. “Today was clean-the-house-to-get-ready-for-company day.”

I’m pretty sure the look on my face said plenty because it wasn’t more than a moment before Steven suggested, “Why don’t I run to the store for you?”

“Good idea.” Max said, popping another piece of cheese into his mouth. “You might want to get some more grapes too.”

“Make a list.” Steven said as he picked up the car keys. “You’re coming with me Max.”

“Why do I have to come?” Max asked.

I’d already grabbed a paper and pen and had opened the refrigerator to do a quick inventory. “You ate the whipped cream too!” I cried. “What did you do, dip the grapes in it?” I asked.

“No.” Max looked confused. “I ate it by the spoonful. That stuffs good.”

“I can’t believe you!” I slammed the refrigerator door closed and began going through the pantry.

“Where’s the box of crackers I just bought.” I turned to stare at Max.

“Don’t look at me!” he cried. “I didn’t even know we had crackers.”

That’s when my other son, Alex walked into the kitchen with his hand in the box of crackers that was tucked under his arm.

“Are you kidding me!” I took the box from him and shook it. “It’s almost empty!”

Alex looked confused. “They weren’t for us to eat?” he asked.

“They’re for company.” Steven and Max said in unison.

Alex looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. I was hungry and that’s all I could find to eat.”

“Maybe you should come with us.” Steven said as he took the list from me.

“Where are you going?”

“To the store.” Max said, then looked at me as I just stared at the three of them. “If any of us stays here I’m pretty sure she’s going to explode.”

“I’ll get my shoes.” Alex said as he backed out of the kitchen.

It was time to call it a night and Steven walked over to our bedroom window to close and lock it

before putting on the heat.

“Why don’t we just leave the window open tonight?” I asked.

“But it might rain.” he said.

“I was just watching the forecast and it’s going to be a cool crisp night with no rain.”

Steven seemed to hesitate. “I don’t know.” He still had his hand on the window.

“It’s such a beautiful night out. Why waste the electricity?” I reasoned.

We’d spend so many months with the air conditioning on and we had some many months ahead of us with the heat that I just wanted one night of fresh air. But Steven didn’t look convinced. “I guess we could try it for one night.” he said.

I smiled as I put an extra blanket on the bed. I could hear the rustling of the leaves. “Doesn’t that sound nice? All the pretty fall sounds will lull us right to sleep.”

Steven climbed into bed. “All I hear is a motorcycle gunning its engine.”

At first I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but once he’d mentioned it I could hear one way off in the distance. “Try to focus on the rustling of the leaves.” I said. “You’ll be sleeping like a baby in no time.”

Steven is a pretty light sleeper so I can understand why he’d gotten used to blocking out the sounds with the air conditioning. But there comes a time when some fresh air needs to come into the house.

We were both sitting up in bed reading when one of the neighbor’s dogs began to bark.

I tried to pretend I didn’t hear it but Steven had put his book down and was staring at me so, it was hard to ignore him.

“I’m sure they’ll bring him in soon.” I explained. “It’s probably that last run of the night.”

“I’m not sleeping like a baby yet.” he complained as he closed his book, turned off his light and put a pillow over his head.

Once he seemed settled, I took the time to enjoy the fall sounds a bit more before I turned out my light and let the sounds lull me to sleep.

Halfway through the night we were both jolted out of our sound sleep.

“What’s that smell?” I said as Steven jumped up to close the window. I felt as if I was choking.

“It’s a skunk! Something must have scared it right outside our window.” he said.

We were both feeling sick as our room filled with the noxious odor.

Steven grabbed his pillow and a blanket. “I’m going in the living room.” he said.

“I’m right behind you.” I grabbed my pillow and blanket and headed down the hall.

“Well, you were right about one thing.” Steven said as he put on the heat and made sure all the windows were closed.

“What’s that?”

“We are sleeping like babies.” He grabbed the television remote and began channel surfing. “Weren’t our boys up every two hours for feedings when they were babies?”

It was early morning and I was enjoying a cup of tea as I looked out my kitchen window and watched a gust of wind swirl a pile of leaves up into the air. They reminded me of a flock of starlings taking flight. Those swirling leaves also made me realize winter was coming. I pulled my robe closer around my neck as my husband, Steven came into the room.

“Good morning.” he said, as he grabbed a cup from the cabinet.

I pointed out the window, ready to show him the wind blown leaves, but when I opened my mouth to speak only a squeak came out.

Steven quickly looked over at me, “Are you sick?” he asked.

I cleared my throat, ready to tell him I felt fine. But when I went to speak again, still nothing came out but an odd sound.

I sighed as I put my cup on the counter and shook my head no. But that wasn’t completely true. I had laryngitis. I didn’t feel sick. No fever, no sore throat but losing my voice was something I’d had happen to me many times before.

“You’re sick.” Steven stated as he slowly stepped away from me. “Are you staying home today?”

That was hard to decide. If history repeated itself, my voice would be gone for days. Did I really want to miss that much time at work? I looked at Steven as I shrugged my shoulders, then opened my mouth to give my answer, only to have my squeak come out.

“I have no idea what you just said.” Steven said. “Just shake your head yes or no.”

That’s when Alex came into the room, “What’s wrong with Mom?” he asked.

“She’s sick.” Steven said.

I watched as Alex back away from me, “What’s wrong with her?”

That’s when my other son, Max walked into the kitchen. “Something’s wrong with Mom?”

Alex wasn’t sure there was enough distance between us so he backed up some more. “She’s sick.” he said.

“What’s she got?” Max asked.

“Why is everyone talking like I’m not here!” I yelled, but what came out was a bunch of tiny noises.

“What’s that girl?” Max said with a laugh. “Timmy’s in the well?”

Now all three of them were laughing and I was feeling like I had the plague.

“She’s got laryngitis.” Steven answered for me.

“Is she contagious?” Alex wanted to know.

“She’s got something.” Max answered. “I’d stay away from her.”

I was looking from one of them to the other wondering, once again, how I got into a household full of guys that made me feel like the den mother to a frat house.

“I’m still standing here!” I croaked.

“Did anyone understand what she just said?” Alex asked, then laughed.

“Nope.” Max said, then looked at his Dad who also shook his head, “Not a clue.” Steven answered.

They were all still laughing as I stomped off, frustrated.

“Do you think we pushed her too hard?” I could hear Alex ask Max and Steven as I went down the hall.

“I’m pretty sure we’re on our own for dinner tonight.” Steven answered.

Now it was time for me to smile.

I was staying home from work, when I really didn’t feel sick. I’d spend the day curled up on the couch, watching television and napping. Then someone was going to bring me dinner to my door.

It sounded like a perfect day for me, except for the fact that I couldn’t tell anyone about it.

It was a beautiful fall afternoon, the sun was at it’s peak and I was once again admiring all the color in my backyard.

My husband, Steven walked in the room and stood next to me. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

“The trees are so pretty this year.” I said, sipping my cup of tea. “But my favorite one is our tada tree!”

Steven looked confused. “Tada tree?”

I pointed to the little tree on the side of our yard. “All our other sassafras trees turn yellow and a few turn orange. But that little guy is the only one that turns a brilliant red! I just love it!” I gushed. “I’m so glad we decided not to cut him down.”

When we first moved into this house, two summers ago, we were in the back yard with our tree guy trying to decide which trees should stay and which ones needed to go. When we got to the tada tree it seemed a given that it would be taken out. It was small, crooked and a little too close to the fence. But something about the tree, maybe because it had so many reasons why it should have come down, became the very reason I felt it needed to be saved. “That one stays.” I said.

I remember how surprised and our tree guy was. “Really? Are you sure? Your yard is full of sassafras trees and that one doesn’t look like it’s in very good shape.”

“I like it.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “It reminds me of Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.”

Now Steven looked confused. “What?”

I shrugged my shoulders again. “Someone just needs to show it some love.”

Steven just sighed and shook his head, then moved on the the next tree and it’s fate.

I smiled, oddly happy that my strange little tree was staying.

Now Steven and I were standing at the window admiring it’s brilliant color. “I feel like every fall that tree is thanking us for keeping it.” I looked at Steven and smiled. “It’s saying “TA-DA!” with that burst of red. Reminding us what we almost gave up.”

“Is that what it’s saying?” Steven asked.

“I’m serious.” I said as I bumped him gently with my hip. “Sometimes you just have to follow your feeling.” I explained. “Clearly I was getting a good feeling from that tree, it needed to stay, and now it’s thanking us in the only way it knows how.”

“So are you getting any special feelings for that dead pine?” Steven asked as he pointed to the pine right behind the bird feeder. “I was planning on having the tree guys back to take it down.” Steven started to laugh. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting a vibe that maybe it should stay.”

“Laugh all you want.” I cried. “But I also fought for the lilac bush you and the tree guy thought should go.” I placed my tea cup in the sink then looked back at Steven. “Remember how beautiful it was this spring?”

Steven nodded in agreement then shrugged his shoulders. “It was nice.” he admitted.

I was in an antique center with a friend when I happened to see something that I’d been wanting to get for years. After negotiating a price with the owner I grabbed my phone and called my husband, Steven.

“You’re never going to believe what I just found!” I cried when he answered.

“Try me.” he said with a laugh.

“Remember Mom’s Seth Thomas Cathedral clock she had on her mantel?”

“How could I forget that thing!” he said. “It chimed every fifteen minutes! It drove me nuts!”

“Really?” I was surprised. “I loved that clock.” Now I wasn’t sure how to proceed. “I just happen to be standing in front of that very same clock right now.” I decided to test the waters, “I was thinking about buying it for our house.” I said.

“Is it chiming?” he asked.

“It is.” I said. “I had the owner wind it up for me.”

I remember, as a little girl, watching my Mom use her key to wind her mantel clock every few days. No one else was allowed to touch that key except her. I’m sure she was afraid we’d over wind the clock and break it.

But now I had a chance to own my very own mantel clock. I smiled as I looked back at the clock.

“Do you want me to hold the phone up to it so you can hear it chime?” I asked Steven.

“No thanks.” he said. “I remember what it sounded like.”

“It’s one of my favorite childhood memories.” I told Steven. “I wasn’t a very good sleeper when I was young. I can remember laying in bed at night listening to the chimes then waiting for the gong to strike telling me the hour.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you weren’t a good sleeper because of the clock?” Steven asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You never thought you were up because the clock was waking you every fifteen minutes?”

That stopped me for a moment. “I never thought about it.” I admitted. I looked back at the clock sitting on the shelf of the antique store mesmerized by pendulum as it swung back and forth.

“You sleep through the night now, don’t you?” he asked.

“That’s because between work and kids I’m so exhausted nothing could wake me.”

“I can guarantee if you buy that clock you’ll be up every fifteen minutes listening to it.”

I was disappointed but I knew what he was saying was right. “I guess I’ll pass on the clock.” I said.

“You made a good decision.” he said.

After I hung up I was still feeling a bit sad. The owner of the store came over to me. “Do you want me to take the clock up to the front desk for you now?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to pass on it.” I said. “My husband talked me out of it. But thank you so much for winding it up for me.”

The owner shook his head. “Great.” he said sounding a bit disgusted. “Now I’m stuck listening to that thing chime every fifteen minutes for the next few days!”  

I was on a road trip with my sister Donna. We’d just gotten into the car when she asked, “Did you step in something?”

I quickly checked the bottom of my shoes. “No why?”

“You don’t smell that?”

“I don’t smell anything.”

Donna shook her head sadly, “My nose is just so sensitive.” she said. As we drove out of her neighborhood we saw a man walking his dog, they were stopped on someone’s lawn. “Now I know where that smell came from.” she said with disgust.

We continued on our trip. About twenty minutes later we were on the Thruway. “Do you smell macadam?” she asked.

“Macadam?” I took a deep breath in through my nose. “Nope! I don’t smell a thing.”

Seconds later we were passing a crew of trucks paving one of the the lanes. “Wow!” I said. “I smell it now!”

Donna just shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a curse having this nose.” she said. “Now all I can smell are oak leaves.”

“Well it’s fall and we’re on a leaf peeking trip so I’m not that impressed with that.” I said. “But how can you just smell oak leaves?” I asked.

She turned to look at me, tears streaming down her face. “Because I’m allergic to oak leaves.” She pointed to the box of tissues in the back seat. “Can you grab me one?” she asked. “I’m having a hard time with my allergy’s this year.”

I handed her some tissues and watched as she mopped her cheeks.

By now we’d reached out first destination, a farmer’s market.

As soon as we opened the car doors, Donna was overwhelmed. “Wow, do you smell the pickles?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Nope. I don’t smell anything.”

“It’s a curse I tell you.” She said as we started to look at the different booths.

Sure enough there was a pickle booth. As I got closer I could smell the garlic pickles. “Oh my gosh, they smell so good.” I said. “I think I’ll get a jar.”

By now Donna’s nose had moved on. “Someone’s selling lavender.” She said.

“Wow! It’s like walking with a Bloodhound.” I said. Then changed my tone as if I were talking to a puppy. “Which way to the lavender, girl?”

“Very funny.” Donna cried but then pointed behind us, “It’s that way.” she said sadly.

We got the the lavender booth and I was trying to choose between a satchel or the oil. Inhaling both I couldn’t decide. “Which on do you like?” I asked my sister, handing her both to smell.

She held both up to her nose. “I’m sorry.” she whispered to me. “But now I’m smelling lavender and fish.”

“Ewww.” I cried, but backed into the isle to look at the other booths. Sure enough someone was selling fish a few booths down. “You’re right again.” I said.

“It’s a curse.” she said again.

By now we’d finished our shopping and were headed back to the car. “Alright, now I’m smelling oranges.” she said.

I looked around, but no one was selling citrus. “Sorry, you’re wrong this time.” And had to smile. “It’s apple season! No one is selling oranges!”

She pointed over to a little boy sitting at a table eating a bagged lunch. I looked over as the Mom was peeling an orange for him. “It’s a curse.” she said again.

As we put our bags in the car and climbed in I closed my door and was ready to put on my seat belt Donna asked again. “Are you sure…

But I cut her off. “If you ask me to check my shoes again I swear…” I left the threat hanging. “Maybe you should check your shoes.”

Just then we both saw the dog at the same time. “Okay, you win.” I said. “What you have is a curse.”

“Told you.” she said.