On the morning after Christmas, we went to Perkins in Avondale, which is usually a pretty mellow place in the morning. Not today: there was a loud, large family making merry two tables away. The noise was no big deal, they were just being cheerful, but thank goodness the usual morning Bible study group that meets in that part of the restaurant had already departed.
The merry-makers were leaving at the same time as we were, hollering good-byes to siblings who were standing right next to them, and while we were in the lobby an elderly woman from the group came up to us.
"Sorry about all the noise," she said, explaining that all her grandchildren were there. Even though she felt the need to apologize, she couldn't conceal her joy at having her family around her. It was very sweet.
"You were pretty lively," I agreed, smiling.
"Yeah, we were thinking of joining you!" said my breakfast companion.
I was fortunate enough to spend part of Christmas Day with another joyful group that included all ages, from an infant (it was her first Christmas!) through two folks in their eighties. The toddler kept us well entertained, especially when he was playing with one of his presents, a toy coffee-maker. This wasn't just a simple percolator; no, it made lattes, and cappuccinos, and even fancy macchiatos. It made a realistic grinding sound and a steaming sound. By the end of the evening he was on his way toward becoming a full-fledged barista, except perhaps when he tried to insert the cluster of plastic beans into the customer's cup.
My sister's branch of my family celebrated Christmas at their home in Minnesota. Both college students in the family were home on their winter break, from Harvard and Stanford, and my sister reports the most memorable present was an record player. Neither of the digital-age youths was familiar
with this ancient technology: "What speed do you play them at?" " Is the first song on the outside
border of the inside?"
My sister says she got out her old Beatles LPs and played them all
afternoon.
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