It was a sticky situation, one with a pinch too much spice, a showstopper in the worse possible way. Christmas at the Evans’ wasn’t the familiar family gathering, rather it was a sad sorry mess and though the family planned every year to prevent the disaster, they never had a chance.
The triplets arrived in a mass of goodwill, slipping past the outer defenses and skipping straight into the earthy scene with no warning.
They’re words slipped and slid; until no one knew who was right and who was wrong.
They’d obviously been in training since last Christmas.
© Deb Whittam 2020