For those of you trying to do some last-minute shopping, I’m going to give you a little help. What Greg really, really needs for Christmas is a can of WD-40. Our house has terribly squeaky doors. I try not to use the bathroom in the middle of the night because I know the squeaking of the door will wake Greg.

Or maybe we have a severe mouse problem. I guess that’s a possibility, and Greg is just using the creaky hinges as a cover.

The men in my family are maniacal about WD-40. When I turned 16, my dad told me I needed two things in the trunk of my car at all times: duct tape and WD-40. Greg doesn’t share these feelings. I am living a life of dire WD-40 poverty. In fact, when people ride in the back of my car, they appear visibly alarmed when hearing the groan of the doors. They pause, waiting for the doors to drop off their creaking hinges. My car is like a 100-year-old man waking from a 28-hour nap in a deep freezer and trying to ease his achy body out of bed.

I’ve been trying for months to find a can of that magical grease, but I haven’t made it into an auto parts store yet, so no luck. Greg doesn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation. Maybe I need a substitute. Butter?

Greg’s office raffled off a pair of tickets to the Nutcracker on Friday, and Greg won. These were good seats, too, not far from the orchestra. Oh, the excitement! Despite my many, many years of dance lessons, I had somehow missed out on seeing the Nutcracker as a kid.

We stopped at a restaurant for a quick bite to eat before the performance. We ate at a cafe that is known for its great breakfasts, and therefore dishes them up 24 hours a day. Greg debated between ordering a standard dinner or a stack of pancakes.

“Well, I really want breakfast, but I’m going to get a regular meal,” I said.

“Why’s that?” Greg asked.

“Because if I eat a huge stack of pancakes and then sit in a dark auditorium, I know what will happen,” I said.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Greg said. “In that case, maybe I should get the pancakes.”

Boys can be such stinkers!