"There's ten minutes left on the oven timer, then we can leave."
The clock ticks down another minute. Remarkably, Spencer doesn't appear stressed at all over the fact he'll be meeting my parents for the first time when my green bean casserole comes out of the oven.
At Christmas dinner.
With my whole family.
It's a situation that requires one be nervous, but since Spencer doesn't seem fit to care, I've worked up enough worry for the both of us.
"If he tries to intimidate you with his shotgun, don't worry—it's not normally loaded."
"Not normally, huh?" He laughs like this is all fun and games and I'm kidding.
I'm totally not kidding.
"Spencer! This is serious." I can deliver a preterm baby in the hallway of the hospital during a blackout caused by Snowmageddon, but putting my Dad in
