Raccoon stood in the kitchen and listened to his father curse as he tried to put the artificial tree together in the living room.
“Next year, we’re getting a real tree,” he yelled. “I’ll cut it down myself.”
Raccoon caught his mother’s eye and she stopped stirring, passed him the bowl and went to check the chocolate melting on the stove.
he rolled the mixture into little balls. They dipped the balls in the chocolate and set them on sheets of wax paper to cool.
“The fucking lights are all tangled,” his father said. “Want to help me out buddy?”