Her eyes snapped back open, and her gaze fastened again on the phone.

"But Mom, none of your homemade chocolate chip cookies?" She sipped the champagne and discovered she needed a refill. "How am I supposed to cover all the food groups without my birthday box?" She reached into the other bag and pulled out the bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, original recipe, of course. Pointing from the chicken to the champagne, she continued her one-sided discourse. "I have the meat group—KFC—mixed with the all important grease group for proper digestion. Then I have the fruit group, champagne, my personal favorite. How am I supposed to complete the culinary birthday ensemble without the dairy/chocolate/sugar group?" She gestured in disgust at the phone.

Lifting the lid off the KFC, she snagged a drumstick and bit into it. Then, using it to punctuate her hand gestures, she continued.

"You know that you guys always send something totally useless that makes me laugh and remember home. No matter where I am. Like the year before last when you sent me the frog rain gauge. And I don't have a yard! And how about the God Bless this House stepping stone, which I have to hang on the wall of my apartment, because I have no house!" CC's disgruntled look was broken by a smile as she recounted her parents' silly gifts.

"I suppose you're trying to tell me to get married, or at the very least, to become a homeowner."

She chewed thoughtfully and sighed again, a little annoyed to realize that she probably sounded fifteen instead of twenty-five. Then she brightened.

"Hey! I forgot about my other message," she told the phone as she scooped it back up, dialed her messages, and skipped past her parents' voices.