Page 118 of Deck the Hauls

Emily laughed. “No. I don’t want to make a terrible first impression on your family. As enjoyable as this is, we should probably head back before they send out a search party.”

I sighed, reluctantly disentangling myself from Emily. We walked to the back of the van and opened it, heaving out the two cooler bags of food.

“Yikes, this is heavy,” I said, holding one of the bags with both hands.

“Let’s get them inside before our arms fall off.”

When we got back, Dad was taking a tray of green bean casserole out of the oven and Mom and Jake were carrying plates of food out to the dining room table, where Kelsey had taken a seat.

“Is this what I think it is?” I asked, pulling out a heavy glass baking dish with foil on it from one of the bags

I pulled off the foil.

Lasagna.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “I feel like your parents wouldn’t approve, but I’ll put it in the microwave to save time.”

Thankfully, it just fit. I turned on the microwave before going back to the bags of food.

There was an assortment of other goodies, from meatballs and octopus salad to cannoli and crisp biscotti. We pulled out the salad and the sweets.

“Let’s do the crackers while the lasagna is heating up,” Mom said.

We took our seats at the dining table, covered in a green tablecloth and place settings, a colorful Christmas cracker above each plate.

“Will you do the honor?” I asked, holding out my cracker to Emily.

“Of course. But what is it?” Emily stared at the cracker.

“It’s a Christmas cracker. Mom’s parents immigrated from the UK in the 1950s and this is one of the British traditions she’s kept. There are little gifts inside.”

“Oh, cute! So what do I do?”

“You hold it firmly at one end, like this.” I demonstrated with my end. “And then we both pull. On the count of three. One, two, three!”

The cracker broke in half with a loud bang.

A folded red tissue paper hat, a piece of paper, and a green plastic whistle fell onto my thighs. I unfolded the hat and placed it on my head, then looked at the piece of paper.

“What do you call a deer with no eyes?”

Emily frowned. “Huh?”

“Each cracker comes with a joke.”

Emily laughed. “Oh, okay. Um, a blind-der? No, that’s terrible. I have no idea. What?”

I chuckled. “You actually said it. It was ‘no eye-deer.’ No idea!”

Emily groaned. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s meant to be. It’s the Christmas cracker tradition. The toys generally are as well.”

I blew the whistle. It let out an ear-piercing screech.

“That’s even worse,” Emily yelped, covering her ears.

I placed the whistle down on the table.