I envisioned quiet Christmas music. I got the Mitchell report.
I envisioned happy talk of St. Lucy, Advent, and weekend plans for putting up our tree. I got a wrestling match that broke out as a result of someone singing the “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” song with someone else’s name in it.
I envisioned polite sipping. I got fingers dipped into the Advent candles to make tiny wax balls from their drippings. I got tiny wax balls dropped (quite by accident) into other people’s tea cups.
I envisioned “pleases” and “thank you’s.” I got one child who went through 4 tea bags before he found one to his liking. I got another child who split open his tea bag with a bout of over-zealous stirring, agreed to a bet to try drinking the tea anyway, and then caused the rest of the guests to fall out of their chairs with laughter at his series of outrageous grimaces.
The only thing I envision for next December 13 is not inviting the boys.