It’s getting closer. Time to pre-order your copy of Mission of Christmas from AmazonBarnes and Noble, or the Samhain website! And psst.. the pre-order prices are discounted a little! So don’t miss the sale!

And that also means it’s time to regale you with another story about the holidays. Rather, my family and the holidays.
This one happened on Thanksgiving. I’d been married to my husband about a year, I think. No kids yet, just the two of us. It was the long holiday weekend (for him anyway–I, being a hairdresser, had to work Friday and Saturday) and we had stayed up late Wednesday night, because we could, and didn’t get up until about 9:30 Thanksgiving day.
I knew that my Grandma Jane was having Thanksgiving dinner at her house, like always, and I had called my grandmother twice to confirm the dinner time.
Noon.
So my husband and I have a leisurely morning. We watch a parade, slowly take showers and get ready.
I take a little more time to do my makeup, because, well, it is Thanksgiving. I want to look nice for the family event. I even get my husband into a nice sweater (he is a t-shirt and jeans guy) before we leave.
So about eleven, I tell him we need to get going, because Grandma lives thirty minutes away, and we should be a little early.

My husband rolls his eyes, because he thinks we’ll be too early, and just have to stand around for an hour before we eat.
I still get my way, and we go ahead and leave. In the car, I throw my cell phone in the change cup thingy between the seats (this is the day of the little Nokia phones that everyone had when cell phones first came out, with the 1×1 inch screen). I’m driving, and we’re maybe half way there, when my cell phone rings.
“Hello?” The number was Grandma’s house.
“Where are you?” My mother asks.
“I’m in the car. We’re maybe ten minutes away.”
“Well you need to get here. You’re late.”
I blinked. “Uh, okay. We’re on our way.” I glance at the clock on the dash.. We got about 40 minutes yet. What in the world? 
In the background I hear my dad. “Don’t speed. You don’t need a ticket!”
I roll my eyes, and put the phone down. I barely got my hand off it, and it rings again. This time, it’s from my brother.
“What?” I asked.
“Where are you? The rolls are done. And I’m hungry.”
“I just entered town. I’ll be there in like five minutes,” I said as we drove down the main strip of town.
“Well get here. I don’t want to eat cold rolls.” And he hangs up.
As I put down the phone, my husband asks me “Who was that?”
“My brother. Evidently we’re really late.”
Hubby looks at his watch. “It’s 11:20. You said dinner was at noon.”
I shrugged. “We should have left at 10:30, I guess.”
We showed up at Grandma’s, and of course, all is forgiven. I realize that we are late, because even my cousins who are chronically late were already there. I ask my mother if Jane had changed the time and not told me.
“We thought it was at noon.”
My mother rolled her eyes and sighed. “After all these years, Candice, don’t you know, if Jane says noon, you better be here at 11:00 am. Because the food will be ready then.”
Since then, I have never forgotten to be at least an hour earlier than Grandma Jane said the meal would be ready.
Have you ever been late, or even super early, for a family event? (Remember to comment to be entered to win a free copy of Mission of Christmas on Release Day — 11/12/13)

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