“Love the enthusiasm,” I said. “Now I have to go. I’m late for the Ghosts of Christmas Present Christmas Party. See you both tomorrow.”
I scurried out of the room and to my office. My kooky Christmas sweater hung from a white wooden coat hook. The neck hole was tight, and as I struggled to get it on, I bumped my bookshelf roughly. Small thumps sounded behind me.
“Ow.”
When I finally got my head and arms through the right holes, I noticed I’d hit the shelf so hard that some of the books had lurched forward and a couple of knickknacks had fallen on the floor. I straightened the former and picked up the latter. Then I stood before the mirror.
My sweater featured a giant unicorn throwing up candy. When I flipped a switch inside the sweater’s sleeve, the candy flashed with bright lights.
M
