Home from the Holidays, Part 1

We were sitting amidst the Christmas wreckage — wrapping paper and boxes strewn about the living room floor, half-built toys scattered like a mini-bomb had exploded. Kids were running about, cranked up on sugar and sodas. The grown ups were well into their third or fourth goblet of Christmas cheer and dinner was almost ready.

Miss M had settled her 6-year old self down a bit, and was sitting on the sofa, brushing the flowing locks of her American Girl doll. Larry was sitting next to her and her dad was nearby, going through some of his loot.

“Your doll is very pretty,” Larry said to Miss M. “Is she your new baby?”

M nodded and kept on brushing.

“Well she looks just like you. Who’s her father?”

Without looking up, Miss M sighed, “I have no idea.”

“Yup, she's her mother’s daughter,” laughed my brother-in-law.