“Well, I have some gingersnaps in the oven, and I’ll put on a pot of coffee for us. Just put your things in Ken’s old room; give you kids more privacy,” she said, still grinning, at giving us the furthest room from the others. “I only put sheets on that bed anyway. Figured no need to do both of them after what your Dad said.”
I looked a Linda. Linda looked at me. Then we both tried to stifle our laughter. I called out, “Be right there, Mom. I’ll take mine black.”
“I need cream,” Linda yelled, as she looked at me with a wicked grin. Then she ran her tongue across her lips and whispered, “Lots of cream.”
It was the best Christmas ever.