The annual offering of mom and dad’s sorta-famous Ginger Bones finally showed up. Just in time, too. The cupboard is just about empty. Gary is down to half rations. These gingerbones just might carry us through into the early, sad days of 2006. Might not. Hard to say.

The story goes: One year we got dad a set of gingerbread men cookie cutters. While we were testing out our new presents in the “post-opening bliss” period, dad was kicking back and retooling his little people shapes into dogbones. Gingerbread men are one thing, but, Gingerbread Bones? Kinda funny, kinda weird, kinda dad.

Gary has been giving me puzzled, jealous looks all day long.