Our First Christmas Eve Party

 






 










Matthew is dressed in his “party clothes”, a sweater vest and corduroys. Upon seeing the fold out table being brought up from the basement and a tablecloth placed on top of it, he takes a break from stack and unstacking water bottles on the kitchen closet shelf to climb under the table and check out his new hideaway. He peels back a corner of the tablecloth to spy on me while I rush around setting out wine glasses, filling up a bowl up with chips; emptying red and green M&M’s into a dish, and other necessary party preparations. Tonight we are hosting our first Christmas Eve party.

My mother is the first guest to arrive and after putting together a veggie platter she climbs under the table to join a now smitten Matthew.

“Is your mother under the table?” Bob sounds uncertain.

“It appears that way,” I reply slightly embarrassed.

Soon after the rest of the guests arrive, presents are piled under the tree, dinner is served,  gifts are exchanged, and dessert is served. The night whirls by and when the party is winding down Bob and I go to the kitchen to wrap up leftovers for people to take home.

“Bob?” I match his uncertain tone from earlier that evening, “Is your mother under the table?” 
 

He sighs in response. Matthew has coaxed his other grandmother to join him under the table.