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The Naughty or Nice List
There may be more than coal in the stocking…
The kids were over at their grandparents’. We had tucked them and their overnight bags into the station wagon before they were carted away to holiday festivities that would hopefully make them sleepy well before Santa was supposed to arrive.
My dad saluted me from the rearview mirror before driving away. He obviously had some idea of what Mindy and I were planning while the kids were entertained elsewhere.
It was Christmas Eve, the wine was chilled, and I already had Spotify ready to spout a medley of classic Christmas songs. If things were going too smoothly — well, maybe I could blame it all on the joy and spirit of the season.
By the time I went up to wake Mindy from her late-morning rising, though, I found the bed empty, sheets rumpled and comforter spilling onto the hardwood floor.
“Min?” I called, seeing the bathroom light on from the crack beneath the door, and what greeted me was a low moan — followed by gagging and the squelching sound of something wet hitting porcelain.
After ten minutes and intervals of noise no one should be subjected to, I had a feeling our cozy plans were going to be derailed in a big, big way.
