"Dude, we're going to be eating left overs for weeks." Not true. Iris had the constant hunger of a twelve year old boy; this food would be gone within the next couple of days at the most. "How many people did you think were coming?" Iris had finished the decorations-- Chris and Holly were sure in for a shock the next time they visited their own apartment- and Andrew had set up the ordered food, making it look as though they had actually done the work and not the caterers. Although they'd both done their part, Iris watched with a quirked brow and a temptation to laugh as Andrew rushed around, when not pacing, readjusting ornaments and then moments later moving them back. The stress evident in Andrew's actions were justified and although she wasn't about to admit it, Iris felt it too. Probably more than her brother, but she wasn't going to let it show for a second. Their father was... quite intimidating. Releasing a sigh, she called over the light hum of the carols playing through the stereo speakers, "He's not going to kill you, Andie." Iris, however? Most likely.
