#Charmas eve crack

Then I muttered something dark about the duplicity of paladins, retired or not, and went back to trying to figure out the bike. I squinted at him, feeling very much as if I had somehow been bamboozled. вЂњMerry Christmas, Harry.вЂќ And he limped silently from the room. I looked around the room, at any potential unseen angelic presences and demanded, вЂњWhat?вЂќ He let out a little snort and shook his head. Then he smiled at me and said, вЂњI think youвЂ™ll do just fine.вЂќ He cocked his head slightly, as if listening to a comment coming from an earbug. Michael took a sip of nog and nodded thoughtfully.

WeвЂ™d make breakfast together and then heвЂ™d sit with me and open my presents and weвЂ™d spend the day playing with them.вЂќ вЂњI mean, it was more like a cup of milk and sugar with a little coffee thrown into it, but I thought I was pretty big stuff. вЂњMy dad would let me drink coffee on Christmas morning.вЂќ I smiled, remembering. вЂњHarry,вЂќ he said, вЂњwhat do you remember most?вЂќ So much thought had to go into preparing it. I swallowed and looked down at the potential bike. вЂњMost of my memories of my dad are of Christmas mornings,вЂќ I said. вЂњItвЂ™s the most annoying thing youвЂ™ll ever miss once itвЂ™s gone.вЂќ I got pretty used to my Molly showing up at my bedside at 5AM with a cup of burnt coffee she made herself.вЂќ Something sad and tired touched the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

#Charmas eve crack

вЂњDonвЂ™t forget being woken at the crack of dawn by excited children,вЂќ he said. вЂњStaying up all night cutting myself while I try to figure out this stupid thing?вЂќ I demanded. This is what being a father is all about.вЂќ вЂњHarry, I wouldnвЂ™t dream of taking this joy away from you. вЂњOh,вЂќ he said, his voice serious-but his eyes were twinkling. I spread my hands over the parts in exasperation. вЂњYou must have done a million of these things,вЂќ I said. вЂњSo you have the rest of the night to get it done.вЂќ вЂњMaggie and Hank crashed about an hour ago,вЂќ he said.

He paused in the doorway to his own living room and regarded me struggling, smiling quietly. He wore a comfortable robe belted over his pajamas, and carried a coffee mug in his hand. There were quiet footsteps and then Michael Carpenter appeared, a large man in his fifties with a thick, powerful build. The fire in the fireplace crackled and popped. Mouse selected the next part, and I started bumbling around with it until I got it right. If you canвЂ™t beat them, join them.вЂќ I held up the paper so Mouse could peer at it. MouseвЂ™s tail went thumpthumpthumpthump and he grinned a doggy grin at me. MouseвЂ™s tail went thump, thump, against the floor. The parts clicked together and locked, easily. Mouse chuffed, and nudged my other hand with his nose. вЂњOther than wipe your drool off, you moose.вЂќ вЂњWhat am I supposed to do with this?вЂќ I demanded. Then he picked up a different part in his huge, patient jaws, and handed it to me. Then he nudged my hand with his nose until I dropped the part I was trying to assemble.

вЂњYou need a degree and a NASCAR pit crew to do this!вЂќ I muttered darkly. She insisted that the red ones go faster. A lot of little girls would have wanted the pink and purple bike. I went back to trying to assemble the stupid bicycle. He was over two hundred pounds of patient grey floof, and was better with people than I was. вЂњWhy do they bother putting the assembly instructions in twenty different languages,вЂќ I all but screamed, вЂњand then just have a drawing with numbers and letters and arrows!?!вЂќ I sat in the middle of a lopsided circle of parts that spread out before me in a 180 degree arc, glowering at an instruction manual. вЂTwas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring except me and Mouse. Merry Christmas, you magnificent weirdos. For my readers who, for whatever reason, arenвЂ™t sleeping tonight.