But Papa was so particular. If even one berry didn't meet his approval, he'd make us take the whole string apart and start over. Martha dismissed Papa Eberle with a wave of her plump hand. I'd never put up with such behavior from a man. Santa deep in the tree where it wouldn't be noticed.
Sloppiness is a most wicked habit.
May Eberle's head shot up. Papa whose mouth twisted in condemnation. May clamped her hands to her ears to shut out the sound of her father's wrath. Martha screamed as shredded popcorn fluttered to the floor. May buried her wrinkled face in the berries, terrified at the extent of Papa's rage.