“I’ve decided to skip Christmas this year,” I said to my granddaughter, Angie, as I got on Highway 169 in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
“Grandma, you did that last year.” Angie dropped her cell-phone-clasped-hands in her lap. Her brows furrowed as she stared at me. Due to the economy, the threat of furloughs, she hadn’t gotten anything from me last year and probably wondered if I’d leave her off my Christmas list again this year.
“Last year was different. I didn’t have any money. This year, I don’t feel like shopping. I’m tired of trying to decide what to get everyone. Besides, I can’t think of a thing you don’t already have.”
“Tickets to the Miley Cyrus concert.” Angie smiled, raising and lowering her eyebrows.
Miley Cyrus. The young lady who’s trying to prove she’s not a little girl anymore. I saw pictures of her…
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