The minty warmth fills the house, lingers and stokes your cheeks as your eyes surrenders to a soothing rest. The snow white covers melt upon the maroon-red velvet couches all alluring. By coal a sturdy wooden rocking chair stands out and in it's stillness it almost rocks a darling kiss. But the tree sits quietly at its corner, in its full glory, as the green contrasts the red and brown so drastically.

She sits a mermaid, pulling out sparkling ornaments as sprinkles feather upon the carpeted floor. Soon they float upon the branches of magnificent. It's amazing how so much festivity can be packed into a box. One by one, she unfolds the socks and hangs them by the fire place all cast in bricks. Each sock embroided a name she so dearly stitched.

It's a chore to bring christmas home, knowing that everything is going back into a dusty box after the champagne is toasted. But every year, alone, she spends nights putting all the warmth into their home because she wants it to be perfect, perfect for him and them.

Because, she wants it to be perfect, perfect for him and them.