Kid is coming Sunday.

We had played phone tag for a week or 10 days. But she had to finish her senior paper, attend to finals and give her final performances for Emerson College skit troupe Jimmy's Traveling All-Stars.

So I found out Thursday she's arriving soon.

I dig.

Late today, I started to stock up on snacks and drinks for her visit only to realize halfway through I was shopping for 6-year-old kid and not sophisticated 21-year-old daughter. I had some juice boxes and gummy worms and chips galore -- an orgy of sugar and sodium.

Then I imagined a conversation.

"But fathuh, wherefore art thou escargot?"

She doesn't talk like that. I'm taking dramatic license, which also allows me to respond in my best Nort'woods idiom. "You want to eat bugs? Check out the hood of my car."

So I modified, putting away childish things. (Yeah, I've read the Bible. 1 Corinthians 13:11.)

Now we have the makings of our redneck chip dip -- mix Heinz Ketchup with cottage cheese and dip Ruffles potato chips -- to precut veg and fruit. There's Chippewa Springs water -- her favorite. Some hot chocolate mixes. Mixed nuts, also the title of our family history.

Mostly we'll do stuff, get out and see friends, eat well. We're going to make memories rather than a Christmas where we bought gifts never to be seen again.

My kid is the smartest, kindest, funniest person I know. I understand that is what a parent is supposed to say. But I am trained professionally and philosophically to be truthful. Were my kid less than that, I wouldn't say so. Yet she is all of these things to me.

Ideally, I'll report through the trip.

Peace and merriment unto all of you my brothers and sisters.