Sometimes a Kiss is Just a Kiss
Noel Laflin
1-10-22
A friend of
mine recently posted a picture of mistletoe high atop a sycamore tree, which
got me to thinking about the time my roommate Marilyn thought that we could
make some extra Christmas cash by finding some fresh mistletoe ourselves,
breaking it up into small chunks, wrap it in cellophane, tie a bright red
ribbon at the neck, and sell it at the swap meet for fifty-cents a bag.
“Sell a
hundred bags and we’re rich enough to buy gifts for everyone,” she reasoned.
So, off we
went in search of mistletoe.
Some was
eventually located on a lonely country lane, knocked down by some forgotten contrivance,
retrieved, brought home, bagged, and tightly fastened with bright red ribbon.
I think we sold
five bags at the Saturday swap meet later that week. The entrance/seller’s fee
cost more than our take-in that day.
The upside
was, however, that all of our friends and family got sincere hugs, and small red-ribboned
cellophane bags as a reminder to kiss beneath the mistletoe they now had as
gifts.
