Her breath is hot. I glance at the alarm…2:00 am.
I’m definitely aroused.
“Not that. Later. You know…”
I do.
Crazy making, eh!
Maybe I was five. Christmas Eve. Parents in the kitchen. Drinking. Yukking up a storm. Swapping stories about their lives.
Dad’s on the prairies.
Mom’s in the mountains.
Hard lives.
I didn’t know it then.
They’re having a rare old time.
Holiday memories.
Snowed in.
Making music.
Singing.
The oddest thing.
I’m there with them.
Their memories are my Christmas memories.
From that year on, I am always there with them.