Now that the storm is over you’re able to sit quietly for a few moments and enjoy today’s Advent prize. You whistle to old Willy and give him the command to fetch it from the pantry. At first he brings a package of noodles in his mouth, dropping them in front of you, waiting for you to smile. After not just smiling but chuckling, the old hound cat heads back to the kitchen and this time retrieves what you’ve been waiting for all day — your Advent calendar, embossed in gold, secured with lock and chain. You fire up the acetylene torch and break open today’s hinge. Inside you find:
You knew it was coming but that doesn’t make it any better — it’s an unmade bed complete with four pillows, a comforter, a fitted sheet, a top sheet and a wool blanket. You didn’t fight through 60-odd cyber wars just for this, but it’s a part of Christmas and Christmas is a part of you. At least according to your father. He used to say the whole family is related to Jesus on account of generation after generation of candy-lovers He never elaborated but you figure it has something to do with candy being so consistently popular.
Only 13 days left until you build a fire, forget to open the flue and ruin Christmas for everyone including the fire department who had just sat down to the biggest turkey any of them had ever seen.
GLENN W. MACAULAY 