A couple celebrates with their own special brand of bacchanalian behavior.
“We have about 7,000 movies to choose from,” Jason called out from the living room. “Want to come in here and scroll through them with me? If I do it all by myself, you’re going to eventually start asking questions and make me scroll through them again.”
I sighed as I arranged the hot sausage dip on the dining-room table. It sat there nestled amongst a pound of steamed shrimp, a veggie platter with onion dip, a box of our favorite pastries from the local bakery, and a cheese plate.
“Don’t be that way,” he said, catching the sigh.
“I’m fine,” I told him.
I couldn’t help it. Something about New Year’s Eve always gave me a melancholy... Read More