Christmas Sweaters

Eric and Liv have snuck outside to enjoy a smoke break. Christmas lights adorn the roof of their parents’ house and the wholesome sound of music and laughter can be heard inside. Eric is in his late forties. His sister Liv is in her early forties.

Eric: Want to try a menthol? I roll my own now.

Liv: Sure. I used to smoke Salems.

Eric: Me too.

Liv: I know. I used to steal yours when we were kids.

Eric: I guess I knew that. Cheaper to roll your own nowadays, though.

Liv: Doesn’t Mom smoke anymore?

Eric: Nope. She quit. Gave it up three years ago, I think.

Liv: Funny. I can’t keep up with this stuff when we only see each other once a year.

Eric: Yeah. It’s a nice Christmas party, though.

Liv: Yeah. I’m getting a kick out of Dad’s reindeer sweater. I can’t believe she got him to wear that.

Eric: You and Don still together?

Liv: No. Not for a long time. Are you still seeing Madeline?

Eric: It’s almost ten years, now.

Liv: Serious? Ten years?

Eric: Yep. Ten years and three abortions.

Liv: Ouch. That’s hard.

Eric: Yep. Good thing, though. I’m too old for that now. And they would have had weird defects, you know, extra arms and stuff like that.

Liv: What?

Eric: Yep. Madeline’s a crack whore. She doesn’t need to have crack babies around.

Liv: Oh. Really? A crack whore?

Eric: Yeah. I pay her for sex. We have sex. I give her cash. She goes out and buys crack. It works, though. It’s more fun that way. There are no expectations. Better than being married.

Liv: Oh. Sure. No reindeer sweaters, I suppose.

Eric: Yep. It’s the anticipation, too.

Liv: So. Three abortions? They’re…So, she’s…Would you say that you’re monogamous?

Eric: Yep. At least, I think so. Want to be careful, you know. Don’t want to spread anything around. Of course, spreading things around isn’t as bad as catching something.

Liv: But three abortions?

Eric: Yeah. Condom broke. My fault – we rushed and she wasn’t completely lubricated.

Liv: Oh. Well. I guess we don’t need to go into too much detail. Ten years is a long time. I’d like to meet Madeline sometime.

Eric: Well, I can’t really bring her to the Christmas parties. What with the kids and Mom and all.

Liv: No. Some other time then?

Eric: Sure. My place is a mess, though. We’d have to meet at a restaurant or something.

Liv: Ok.

Eric: Just don’t call her a crack whore to her face. She wouldn’t like that.

Liv: Yeah, well. I guess we should get in, huh? They’ll want to start opening presents, I suppose.