Rebecca A. Foster

I'm away from family this year for Christmas, so I've been thinking about the stuff I miss. At the top of my list? My sister's Christmas "negotiations", which go something like this: open presents. Look at what everyone body else got. Decide if you want something of theirs. Start offering tradesies and haggling for whatever it is you liked better. Usually I end up trading something because my mom likes to give me and my sister identical gifts but in different colors, i.e. sweaters, socks, blankets, etc. (My brother gets off the hook, the perk of being the only boy.) My family sent me a box of presents for Christmas. I assume not everything in the box was originally intended for me. Uncontested negotiations!  We also enjoy playing the present fakout game, which is where you give a truly awful gift but pretend like it's sincere, forcing the recipient to offer false oohs, aahs, and other fake gushing until finally you let them off the hook by bursting into laught...

I was cleaning out my pantry and found a little cellophane bag tied with red ribbon, full of red foil Rolos and homemade caramels. Cellophane bag + red foil Rolos means someone must have given this to me last Christmas. And because it also contains a weird Christmas broach, I can't imagine anyone who gave this to me actually knows me that well. I assume the weird Christmas broach thing is why it ended up in the back of the pantry. I set out the bag for tossing, but then after taking Zyrtec AND Ambien I decided it was a good idea to try one of the caramels. Pretty much I hate caramels, so why I'd want to eat eight month old caramels made by someone with poor fashion taste, I have no idea. Drugs are bad, mmmkay? I took a bite and suddenly the soft, rich flavor of dulce de leche is melting in my mouth and I don't care for caramel, but dulce de leche is like liquid gold with rubies mixed in. Simply wonderful. I remember my mom giving us a heaping teaspoon of homemade dulce de l...