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Christmas Tins
Third neighbor in two hours to bring over a Christmas tin.
Fruitcakes are in two of them; we don’t bother to open them.
They are going to go to the office where no one will eat them.
Which is strange because they eat everything else.
Are those homemade cookies? Someone asked, spying Mrs. Gee.
She always brings us homemade cookies. The wrestling begins.
We both want to get the first piece. Divinity, peanut butter fudge.
We are in a frenzy by the time we get the lid off and see another fruitcake.
I’m not even going to open the door to her next year I say.
I hate her, my sister says.
I’m going to go visit her, my brother says. I know she’s got better stuff over there.
We practically kill each other trying to be the first one out the door.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
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