Read Online Demons are Forever: Confessions of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom by Julie Kenner - Free Book Online

genius glue little bits of tissue paper all over it.
    “Fabulous!” I said, holding it up.
    “No, Mommy. Not done yet.” He snatched it out of my hand, and proceeded to pile on more tissue paper. “Glitter? Please, glitter? Red and blue and silver and green and—”
    “Whoa, whoa,” I said, laughing. The glitter would make a huge mess in the kitchen, but good manners were worth a lot, so I caved. Besides, I’d be vacuuming up pine needles in an hour. How much more trouble could a little glitter be?
    By the time Allie came down from the attic with all the ornament boxes, I realized my mistake. The floor beneath the table was covered in a thin layer of glitter, as if a colorful snow had fallen. There was glitter in every crack and crevice, glitter clinging to the table and chair feet, and glitter hiding under the baker’s rack tucked in the corner near the picture window. I had faith in my vacuum cleaner, but this was above and beyond.
    Even Eddie noticed the mess, his bushy eyebrows rising in silent amusement as he padded through the room, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. Or, more likely, the old man who’d just had a hot date.
    “You getting any sparkles on that star, boy? Or are you just decorating the floor?”
    A wide grin split Timmy’s face, and he scrambled out of his chair and sat in the middle of the floor, a glue stick in hand. Then he rubbed the stick on his palm and pressed it down hard. When he held it up, his palm was silver, gold, and green. And my little boy just laughed and laughed.
    I looked at Eddie. “You are so going to pay for suggesting that.”
    He waved the threat away. “So the boy gets his hands messy. It could be worse.”
    That was true enough, and I had a sudden image of glitter in the furniture, Timmy’s hair, the air-conditioning ducts ...
    “Fair enough,” I said. Then I smiled sweetly. “But since I’m going to have to wash glue off the floor, you do owe me a little bit, don’t you think?”
    “Depends. What do you want?”
    “Watch him while Allie and I finish taking down the tree.”
    He cupped his chin with his palm, in full bargaining mode. “What do I get out of it?”
    “You don’t have to help with the tree. And you get my love and devotion.” He snorted. “Plus, ” I added, “you can have one of the apple fritters I bought on our way home from Mass.”
    “Now you’re talking.” He nodded at Timmy. “Okay, kid. Let’s see what kind of mess we can make.”
    “Mess!” Timmy repeated, then tossed a handful of glitter into the air.
    I left the room, figuring that was a better option than having a nervous breakdown right then and there.
    While Eddie and Timmy Wreaked havoc in my kitchen, Allie and I undressed the tree and carefully packed away all the ornaments, tinsel, and little holiday knickknacks we’ve collected over the years. We gathered up the boxes and rubber tubs and headed upstairs to the attic. As for the now-naked tree, I’d get Stuart to drag it to the curb later. After that, I’d vacuum the living room and kitchen. Both, I knew, would sorely need it.
    Our house boasts a fabulous attic, the kind that you access through a regular door that opens on to regular stairs leading up to a large room. The room is more or less finished (though not painted) and Allie swears she’s going to convince me to let it be her room once she turns sixteen. I haven’t yet committed, as I know the value of holding out in exchange for increased bargaining power in other arenas. Forget lawyers; moms are the best negotiators out there.
    We tottered up the stairs, barely able to see over the piles in our arms. Allie dropped hers on the floor, earning a frown from me since more than a few ornaments were not only glass, but sentimental.
    “Sorry!” she said, immediately contrite.
    “They survived Timmy,” I said. “Let’s see if we can’t make sure they last another year.”
    “I know, I know. I said I was sorry.” To her credit, I didn’t have to