In which we look at the calendar (Magi; the gift of no periodontal disease).
Last night - Christmas Eve - my wife looked up and said: where's the floss?
I am not the foremost dental hygiene expert in the family, but I looked very hard for our floss for almost five seconds.
Never mind.
she said.
And pulled down my stocking.
What are you doing?
I asked.
She pulled a small package out of it.
Merry Christmas,
she said,
as she began opening it.
Isn't that my present?
I asked reasonably.
Yes.
she said.
It's from me. It's floss. Merry Christmas.
Oh.
I said.
Uhh, thanks! I, I, I...love it!
Sure.
she said, ripping a length off and tossing the rest to me.
There you go. Floss.
I did. Christmas flossing duet. And that is how our many years and holiday seasons have gone: lots of little weird surprises along with a lot of looking out for each other.
Thank you for the lovely little present, Becca, and maybe next year I can unwrap it myself. Until then...floss on. And Merry, jolly, joyeaux Noel to you, world. You should start flossing if you don't already. It might save your life someday, or at least help you escape from a tall tower with a tiny window if you need to build a semi-dangerous DIY rope ladder on the quick. I guess the important thing to take from this is that you should never go anywhere without a canister of floss, and also if you love people, give them presents you would like yourself, like my wife did. Merry Christmas.