Morning light slicesthrough the blinds, painting golden stripes across the marble countertop. Sanders hunches over his bowl of Lucky Charms, scrolling on my phone with one hand while shoveling cereal with the other.
“Mom! You’ve gotta see this.” He spins the screen toward me, eyes bright. “It’s the Save Christmas challenge. It’s blowing up on TikTok. Like, everyone’s doing it.”
I sip my coffee, trying to focus on the grocery list in front of me. “Didn’t you mention that yesterday?”
“Yeah, but it’s everywhere now.” His voice bounces with excitement. “One family put lights all over their elderly neighbor's house and synced it to Mariah Carey. It has, like, a million views."
"That's cute. I hope they got permission from said elderly neighbor. That could cause vertigo."
"Oh, wait. Look at this one. These kids in Ohio built Santa sleds for shelter dogs. And this one, a group cleaned up a whole yard for this lady whose tree fell in a storm. The before-and-after video has forty thousand likes!”
I set my mug down, warmth spreading through my chest. “Sounds like a pretty wonderful trend. I love that people are actually using social media for good.”
Sanders nods, milk moustache forgotten. “And get this. Some middle schoolers got their whole town together to carol in the square. The video cut off because the crowd didn’t even fit in the frame. It was insane.”
I laugh softly. “Insane in a good way.”
“The best way.” He pushes his mostly empty bowl aside, a single rainbow marshmallow floating in the little bit of milk left. Who leaves a lone marshmallow?
Sanders leans in like he’s pitching me an idea on Shark Tank. “We should do something, too,Mom. But not just carols. Something big. Something that will make everyone know why we all have to save Christmas.”
"What is the message? I mean, I know it's to do good deeds, but what is the whole viral challenge?"
Sanders squints, like I’ve just asked the world’s easiest question. “It’s not just, like, doing random nice stuff. It’s about showing everybody what can happen if people actually work together."
"Oh, nice."
"Like, neighbors who don’t even talk to each other, kids and grown-ups, even people who don’t like each other. You do something together, post it, and boom, it reminds everyone that Christmas isn’t about arguing or presents or holiday crowds. It’s about, you know…being on the same team for once.”
I smooth his hair back, the cowlick in the front already springing up despite my best efforts with a comb. “That’s a really thoughtful idea, Sanders. I’m not sure we have time to put something together. It’s so close to Christmas.”
“Yes, we can, Mom.” His eyes go distant, already plotting. His leg bounces under the table like he’s hooked up to a power source.
His huge heart makes every exhausting moment of single parenthood worth it. “Let’s brainstorm after you get back from your dad's, and we'll see what we can pull off. I'm game.”
His mouth twists. “I'll think about it over the next few days, too. It's going to be epic.”
The doorbell chimes, breaking the moment. Sanders’ head jerks toward the sound. His lukewarm milk and single marshmallow is forgotten as he leaps up, my phone still in hand.
“That’s Dad.” His grin is quick, betraying more excitementthan he’ll admit. He shoots me a look over his shoulder.
"Phone, Mister. Don't think you're taking it with you."
"Mom. I need my own phone."
"Sanders, phone." I hold out my hand.
His footsteps thud down the hallway.
I stand alone in the kitchen, surrounded by dirty dishes and a cereal box. The morning light is suddenly too harsh, spotlighting every small domestic failure.
Woody’s voice filters in from the doorway, deep and resonant. “Hey, Big Guy! You were amazing last night. Ready for our big weekend?”
So much for Sanders’ urgency.
TWO
Woody
