It was late one evening when my aunt and uncle decided to join us for the holidays, no one was expecting them to attend this year's festivities as they didn't attend any previous. In fact, they stopped attending any family gatherings a few years back when their smallest son was sent away for a while to get better. We never saw him again, nor his parents...Until tonight... We were all gathered around the radio when the front door, not even 10 feet away, swung open and hit the wall with a bang. The brisk wind swooped in and seemed to rip our precious warmth away. Poor Mrs. Munson, scrambled to inspect the wall ,now impaled. Half our family was shocked to see them and my brothers didn't even recognize them. Everyone went silent, even the radio's antenna was blown askew, adding to the erie affect. "I'm afraid if you were planning to tend to its injuries, Mrs. Munson, it's already bled out", my father was famous for making jokes at the most inappropriate times, but this one seemed to ease the tension. Mrs. Munson quickly turned around a bit red in her face and chuckled it off as she scanned the room. My father then proceeded to set down his pipe and greet his sister at the door. "It's so nice to see you, Margret, it's been ages." my father began.
"How have you been?"
"Fine, fine" she reassured.
"And your husband?" he continued, "Your little boy?"
"Ah, Well, they're fine."
You didn't have to be a genius to read the Munson's like a child's novel. Although, no one could have predicted Mr. Munson to march in the house stomping his feet on the porch. following him, a small child who seemed to be drowning in his winter attire. Immediately, Mrs. Munson drew all the attention on to her son,
"Doesn't he look nearly identical to his brother?"
No one dared mention her previous son, presumably dead. My mother then took action blowing off the question with a casual phrase and shooting my father a look.
"Of course, of course. Would you like tea or coffee?"
Clearly my father knew they were coming and failed to inform my mother. They would probably argue about this later after everyone went to bed, my mother did not fail to inform my father of this. My fearless older sister got up and squeezed past Mr. Munson and slammed the door behind him that he had left ajar.
"Sorry, Little Lady." he apologized and quickly got out of the way.
My sister wasn't convinced. She rolled her eyes as she walked back to her seat next then proceeded to fix the antenna.
This man looked like a bear. He had huge hands and was strangely tall with a wild build. He seemed to take up more room than he did. He grabbed his son and walked across the living room and laid the child on the sofa to sleep. My mother quickly poked her head around the corner offering coffee and tea to the others. She then turned to see Mr. Munson tending to his sleepy child.
"Nope, nope, that won't do" she marched over to him pushing him on the couch perpendicular to the other.
"Take your shoes off. Now. We are not animals in this house"
"Sorry, ma'am" he apologized embarrassingly
I personally had enough of this family drama. and decided to go to sneak off to bed.
My room was small and cluttered but in a calm collected manner. My room was by far the room I was most fond of. It had an outdoor feeling when my door was closed just right. My bed seemed to take up the entire room along with my abundance of books. I certainly couldn't pick a favorite genre of book let alone a favorite book. There were certainly a handful of honorable mentions to resort to if someone held a gun to my head. Although, my eyelids were far too heavy for reading and my parents' loving quarrel too obnoxious, I picked up one of my go-to novels and began reading.
I woke up slowly with a sunbeam on my face and my thumb in a book. One of my favorite parts about winter is the contrast of the deep warmth of blankets and the bitter winter atmosphere. I slowly pulled my elbow under the blanket with me, including the book. There, in the perfect position, down blankets, and a wonderful sunbeam sleeping on my face, I rested. I grew more and more fond of this sunbeam as the minutes passed. With nothing but the red glow on the inside of my eyelids, I welcomed the sunbeam to the morning. For no reason other than daft childlike entertainment, I smiled and whispered "Good Morning, Sunbeam".
