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Eddie did not light up the fireplace on the first few occasions. He was honestly terrified of accidentally setting their house on fire. Not after they've worked their assess off to save up for their quaint 3-bedroom suburban home.
He did not grow up in a home with a chimney. As a child, he wondered if that was why Santa never paid him a visit. Or a proper visit like the other kids, who'd received brand new bicycles and massive LEGO sets (he wished for the Millennium Falcon). And stockings you ask? Forget about it.
So he delegated lighting the fireplace to Chrissy. She had experience. Her Christmas’s included snuggling by the fire, drinking hot cocoa, and waiting for Santa to come down the Chimney and enjoy the plate of milk and cookies she set out for him. Her stocking. with her name embroidered, hanging alongside the stockings of her brother, mom, and dad. A picture-perfect Christmas.
Well, that’s if you don’t mention the heaps of Christmas parties the Cunninghams had to attend or even host, and how Chrissy had to squeeze into so many dresses each night, being overly careful not to engorge herself with the spread of foods at every party.
But that was then.
And now on December 3, 1993, Eddie Munson, his wife Chrissy, and their 2-year-old daughter are hanging their stockings over the fireplace—freshly embroidered with their names thus they couldn’t resist hanging them up right away.
The fire crackles, the chimney is smoking, and it's Christmas season.