17

“Dad, Dad, Dad,” hollers Vinnie.

“You don’t have to shout, Vinnie. Dad is sitting next to you. What is so important that you haven’t taken a bite of your breakfast?” asks Vinnie’s mom.

Vinnie turns toward his mom, “This is between Dad and me, Mom. You have to put your fingers in your ears so you don’t hear.”

“Can’t it wait until after breakfast?” asks Vinnie’s mom. She instantly realizes Vinnie is always all in to the present moment and whatever thought is racing around in his brain.

“Dear, it’s probably best if you listen to Vinnie,” says Vinnie’s mom.

“What is so important, Vinnie,” says his dad.

“Dad, why are you reading your iPad? Mom always says it’s better not to have digital stuff at the table,” says Vinnie.

“I wanted to see the scores of the basketball games, that’s all,” says Vinnie’s dad sheepishly. He clicks off the iPad and turns it over. “Is that better?”

“Yep. Mom, put your fingers in your ears and keep them there until I tell you to take them out.”

Vinnie’s mom puts a forefinger in each ear. She smiles at Vinnie.

Vinnie hollers, “Can you hear me, Mom?”

Vinnie’s mom shakes her head no. 

Vinnie says, “Thanks, Mom. I know you can’t hear me because you never lie to me.”

Vinnie’s mom thinks, Vinnie really takes after his dad’s side of the family. She wonders if she’ll ever see a sign of her DNA in him. A passing thought runs through her mind, ‘Could the babies have been switched at the hospital?’ She shakes her head no, impossible, but then again.

“Why are you shaking your head, Mom? Never mind, you can’t hear me,” says Vinnie turning his attention toward his dad.

“Dad, I need to do my Christmas shopping. I have to buy you and mom and Rupert and Dexter presents. I want to get all of you stocking stuffers. It’s going to take me all day and part of the evening. Can I miss the living nativity tonight. I don’t think I’ll be finished?”

Before Vinnie’s dad responds, his mom says,”No.”

“You were listening, Mom. You were listening. You said you couldn’t hear me.”

Vinnie’s mom is as fast on her feet as her son. She says, “Mom’s have selective hearing. I turned everything except for anything you might say about the living nativity scene.”

“Wow, Mom. We’re just alike. I tune Mrs. Navis out all the time. I only listen to what I want to listen. I take after you, Mom.”

Vinnie’s dad starts laughing.

Vinnie’s Mom, her fingers now out of her ears, says, “What are you laughing at?”

“You always wondered how Vinnie favors you.”

“Don’t go there, dear.”

“Go where, Mom. Where don’t you want dad to go. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go there. Honest. I’m on it, Mom.”

“The stores open at ten. Why don’t you two men take off for the day. I am going to the spa. Dear, buy Thai takeout, I don’t want to cook. We’ll leave at 6:30 for the live nativity scene.”

“But, Mom, it doesn’t start until 7. Can’t we leave at 7?” asks Vinnie.

“No, Vinnie, we will leave early so you can be at the nativity scene tonight a half hour early.”

“Mom, I don’t like Thigh food.”

“I said Thai food.”

“I still don’t like it. How will I play the donkey on a stomach filled with food I don’t like?”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph please pray for me and Sister Janet,” utters Vinnie’s mom.