Page 54 of A Dye Hard Holiday

I left him alone to pout and headed toward the nursery. It sounded like the cries got angrier as I approached. By the time I opened the door, both Destiny and Dylan were wailing at the top of their lungs. I ran to their crib with my heart in my throat, but my fear turned to sadness when I realized what was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Gabe asked, rushing into the room. “Uh oh!”

Dylan and Destiny each used one hand to tug a stuffed rabbit between them while they yanked each other’s hair with their other hand.

“It’s their first fight,” Gabe said as we separated the little scrappers. “Do you think it’s a sign that they need their own space now?”

“I think so,” I replied soberly. The thought of it pained my chest. They were growing up too fast. We were only a few weeks away from their first birthday.

We bounced them against our chests and soothed them, but I was pretty sure that Gabe and I needed to hold them more than they needed to be held. I glanced over at Gabe and saw that he’d already put on his ugly sweater.

“Aww, we’re going to look so cute,” I said, looking to distract myself from sad thoughts.

“It’s not as tacky as I feared.”

He looked down at his sweater that had a replica of our home sewn onto it, complete with Christmas lights. I jazzed it up with yard deer, snow globes, and a huge ginormous inflatable snowman that we didn’t own. Well, all but one. I didn’t know it was a freaking premonition when I made the damn things. Wait! Did I curse us?

“What do these little lights do?” Gabe asked.

“Light up, of course.”

“Get out of here.”

“Amateur,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“How?”

I pushed a hidden button in the center of the wreath on the front door of our sweater. The lights I worked around the house, trees, deer, and inside the snow globe and snowman lit up.

“This is pure genius!” Gabe exclaimed. He reached over and pushed my button so that I lit up too.

Our babies looked at us with wide, wondrous eyes and I worried that they might damage their retinas if they stared too long. At least they forgot to be mad at each other.

“What did you make for them?” Gabe asked.

“Nothing that lights up,” I assured him. “That didn’t sound very safe for kids.”

“Smart thinking.” He grabbed Dylan from my arms and held the little screaming demons close together. The twins stared each other down for a few minutes, and I worried that we were on the cusp of another fight, but then they smiled at one another. “Show me.”

“They’re more cute than ugly.”

“Quit stalling.”

“I’m a little nervous,” I said, walking to their dresser drawers. “This idea came to me when you started acting like Clark W. Griswold with your quest for a perfect holiday.”

“Just show me.”

“I have a backup plan.”

“I’ve never seen you so nervous, not even on our wedding day.”

“Here goes,” I said, pulling one out and holding it up for him to see.

Gabe’s eyes widened then he tilted his head back and laughed. “Oh my God! Oh, Sunshine! That’s perfect.”

I smiled as I looked at the gems I found online. They were white knit sweaters with green and red lights strung across the top and bottom with “Jolliest Bunch of Assholes This Side Of The Nuthouse” stitched in the middle. It looked like something my mom would’ve cross-stitched back in the day.

“We’re going to kick ugly sweater a… butt.”