on the first day of Christmas...

The car pulls into the driveway. She opens the door and there is a whooshing sound as if a speding bullet flying out of the vehicle. I sigh. It wasn't a bullet. I watch her stumble out of the car, pulled by a red leash and the monster pulling it.

Come on, Marley.

She says after trying to drag the dog to our house.

Really? Like the guy from the Christmas Carol?

I ask and lift an eyebrow. I wasn't really seeing this situation in very bright colors. Joan looks up and sends me a dirty look. It's 5 degrees below zero and I can still see her sweat from all the effort. Hey, she did want a dog. Well, she got it.

Yes, exactly from there, Meg. Don't look so doubtful.

Hmm, at least you didn't name it after that movie with Aniston.

It was based on a book.

It doesn't matter. You ended up in hours of tears after it. That's what I remember the most. Besides, it's a name for a boy.

No, it's not. And the name works just as good for a girl.

She says and scratches the dog behind an ear. I close my eyes for a moment, trying not to imagine all of the damages in the house that were surely on their way.

Megan?

I open my eyes and stare at her. I was gonna be tough on this. All her charms were not going to work this time, no extra points for her curves or the intensity of her eyes... even if they were what got us the puppy in the first place. I look at the beast. My eyes linger on the chocolate brown fur. On the big round eyes. On all that drool - and I wonder if we should have named the dog: Beelzebub. The puppy growl at me. Yeah, sounds about right.

Yes, dear?

I say sarcastically. She leaves the dog while it starts to sniff around as if its sole mission was to learn all the smells in the neighborhood. Joan walks up to me, wraps her hands around my neck and stares at me. It was the exact stare number one, that the puppy served us at the pound. I narrow my eyes but before I can do anything, she stands on her fingers and kisses me. I lower my head slightly. My lips linger on hers. My hands in red gloves, wrap themselves around her waist. She starts to giggle. She knows that she already won. I growl and kiss her again. She moves back.

Grow up, Megan. We just got a hairball for our little family. Think that you can deal with that?

I look at the dog. It starts to chew on out house-mat.

Yeah. I think I can deal with it. Only if later I will get a different Christmas gift?

I give her a meaningful stare. She smiles back. Let the Christmas begin.