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A Week Before Christmas, I Overheard My Daughter’s Secret Plan to Dump Eight Kids on Me—So I Taught Her a Holiday Lesson She Never Saw Coming
In the evening, we made fresh pasta, vegetables, salad, and opened a bottle of local wine. We ate on the terrace as the sunset turned the sky soft orange and pink.
“Merry Christmas,” Paula said, raising her glass.
“Merry Christmas,” I replied — and for the first time in years, I truly meant it.
