The family room is a mess.

The kitchen is a mess.

Jennifer and I pick at the remains of crab claws and crudités over the light of a candle while Diana Krall coos a romantic melody through the TiVo, streamed from one of my low-power Linux servers attached to one of our 802.11g access points¹. The candlelight alternates with 900 watts² of overhead lights that Anna and Tara are alternately switching on and off while the two of them alternately fight and giggle. Anna runs upstairs to fetch her Little Mermaid book light to replace the candle she plans to blow out. Tara takes the opportunity to push a chair over to the light switch so that she can turn the lights out again.

The phone rings. Anna squeals and runs over to fetch it. Jennifer crossly asks Anna to hold still so she can read the caller ID. I’m trying remember what time the UPS guy stops by on Tuesdays, and if I should leave work early to pick up the Nokia N80 I ordered. It’s Grandma Donna on the phone. Jen takes the phone and shuffles out to the living room.

I eat the last olive in my martini, then hold the toothpick over the candle and watch the flame jump to it. Anna blows out the candle, not noticing the toothpick I have cupped in my hand. Anna runs out to find Tara and I can again hear Jennifer on the phone. The toothpick burns to the point that I have to drop it in my glass.

Dinner’s over.