“What’s so funny?” He is standing at the edge of the bed, his blue eyes locked on mine. I decide not to mention his matter of towel wrapping. �...Don’t you think I should at least know your name before I let you disrobe me anymore?” “My name doesn’t really matter because you will disrobe and I will have you, but you can call me Sir or Master, whichever you prefer.” “Seriously, you expect me to do that? Just tell me your name.” “I do, but I tell you what, when we are done, if it was not some of the. .. was... I'm still not sure what it was. Seriously, we were all too afraid to ask. It would show up every Christmas, eat some food, and leave. No one dared to say anything to it. Whatever it was, it did keep the peace in the family until it left. Then, for God only knows what reason, someone has to say something and that's when the fighting begins.The last Christmas we had was no different. I can't even remember what words set it off. It sounded like "Mary" and "Chris." But there is no one in. More

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