The setting: a Sunday morning in early December, in a small kitchen in a small home in a North Carolina suburb. Water is heating in a couple of electric appliances. She stands at the counter, before a cup with a spoon it, awaiting the silence from one of the appliances. Her cup is brightly colored with the hues most often associated with the month, at least in the US.
He (with a nod towards the cup): Ah. I see you’ve wasted no time getting into the Christmas spirit.
She: Why not? I’ve unpacked the whole set — you want one?
He: No, thank you. Those cups are too small.
(Her mouth drops open.)
She: Grinch!
(They turn away from each other, each smiling in secret self-satisfaction to have played their assigned roles to a T.)
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