"Oh my, Mister! What a big menorah you have!" I giggled.
"Yes," Geoffrey answered with mock solemnity, "few men could hold a candle to it."
"Wouldn't that hurt?"
""Wickedly," said Geoffrey, giggling too now as he leaned over a big storage box labeled "Hanukkah decorations."
Looking at his cute ass never ceased to make my heart go pitter-patter. Although we'd been married for only less than a year, I knew my feelings for him would only grow stronger. This was our first winter together with our combined households, and yet it seemed we'd been doing this for years. He turned and looked at me, smiling like a little boy. I knew this was his favorite time of year.
We pulled out the decorations, and it brought back memories of childhood holidays and the traditional eight nights of presents that caused such jealousy among grammar school classmates. Of course, we never told them that the first night's present was usually hand-knitted socks from Aunt Dot and that the best presents were saved for the last night. I made a mental note to call my mother and get her potato pancake recipe.
Hanukkah would be starting in a couple days and, looking outside at the bleak weather, I felt happy to be in our warm home in front of a cozy fire. We pulled out the silvery decorations and set the special candles and chocolate geld on the table.