“Just So You Know, We’re Using Your House for Christmas,” My Daughter-in-Law Texted — She Never Asked

something was, she asked instead of assuming.

“Where do you keep the serving spoons?” she said.

“Third drawer on the left,” I replied.

We ate. We laughed. We told stories about Christmas disasters of the past—the time Daniel knocked over the tree pretending to be a ninja, the time my oven broke halfway through roasting a turkey and we had to finish it continue reading …