It was a quarter to 11, and Pure Luck and I were getting the dogs ready for the night: one last trip out, various pills and potions, a cookie for good measure. Outside the snow fell and the wind blew and the sky seemed oddly bright for the lateness of the hour. Just as we got Molly into pill-taking position, we heard a knock on the door.
Pure Luck, exclaimed, "Who the hell is that?"
I hurried to the door thinking it must be a neighbor in some sort of need, someone who saw our Christmas lights still on and turned to us.
I opened the door to find a bearded young man wedging himself into the small space the storm door would open with deep snow pressing against it.
"Merry Christmas!" cried #1 Son.
We hugged, and I said, "It's a good thing you didn't tell me you were traveling in this."
"That's why I didn't," he said.
(Post-Christmas prizes to the first person recognizing the reference in the title of this post!)