Christmas Eve

The air seems almost pregnant with anticipation. It's almost here! Kids set out cookies and milk for Santa, with the greatest of care. "Mommy, when does Santa come?" "Real, real late at night honey, after we've all gone to sleep."

Out in the kitchen, Mr. Santa has already found the cookies. He sniffs the milk to be sure it hasn't soured, then pours it back in the jug, leaving the dirty glass. Pouring a hot cup of coffee, he grabs the plate of cookies and heads for the living room. Taking his hand tools from behind the couch, he dumps them on the coffee table, then sips his coffee and munches a cookie. First things first.

Mrs. Santa appears in the room. "Those were for Santa" she says caustically. "Who the hell do you think we are?" "Share?"; and without waiting for an answer, she plops down beside him, grabs a cookie and dunks it in his coffee. They slurp and chew in silence. The plate is empty. "Got anymore of these?" "You've had enough. Time to go to work."

The Tradition Continues