The Christmas tree twinkled with tiny lights and scented the living-room with pine.
“Smells like washing-up liquid,” said Emma, but Mom seemed to like it--she spent the whole afternoon in a chair with her feet up and heavy branches tickling her toes. Then Dad got home and carried Mom upstairs, which was decidedly odd.
“Want a slumber party at Alison’s?” he asked.
“Why?” said Emma.
“Just because.” Getting odder and odder.
Dad walked down the street beside Emma to knock on Alison’s door. Her Mom said okay.
Next morning, when Emma got home, she had a new baby brother.