Christmas is Coming Like a Freight Train

Christmas is coming like a freight train. Richelle is busy decorating all over the house. She keeps saying things to me from the living room which I can’t quite hear.

So I say, “I can’t hear you!”

Then she says nothing.

Which means she’s either mad or she can’t hear me say that I can’t hear her.

I’m trying to make the tiny bit of wine left in my glass stretch as far as it can possibly go.

The music is taunting me.

She’s expressing worry about the Nativity scene and simultaneously hurrying me to get cheese and crackers that she wants to have with the wine.

She’s like a movie director on a deadline.