…just slip a paddle under the tree, for me… Been an awfully bad girl…
Oh, wait. I already did this year’s parody. Never mind.
It’s 10 PM on Christmas Eve here, and I’ve already had my visit from Santa.
Well, sort of. I guess he was one of Santa’s representatives. He had a Santa hat, and he brought an extra one for me. Weird, though… he wasn’t fat, he was clean-shaven and he had black hair. Who knew?
I dressed up for him, wearing a festive red dress complete with stockings and pumps. And I even put on that stupid hat. Some Jew.
Whoever he was, he was certainly mischievous and perverse. I couldn’t even take a minute to freshen my makeup without him sneaking up behind me and… well, see for yourself.
He wanted to know all the naughty things I’d done in 2013, and he asked me while I was bent over the ottoman. Come on. How am I supposed to think back over the past year and come up with specifics, while in such a disgraceful position? I couldn’t do it! Not to mention that I was having wardrobe distress. Not only did that damn hat keep falling off my head, but my boobs were falling out of my dress. He didn’t care; he still thought some coercion was in order.
(If you look close, you’ll see that I was indeed in danger of falling out of my dress. This didn’t seem to bother him in the least.)
He had this annoying pattern of swatting me in threes — because of the three Wise Men, don’cha know. (eye roll) “Is three an odd number?” he asked. “YOU’RE an odd number!” I snapped.
And just what the hell is he up to here??
(Damn… Santa’s helpers certainly are buff these days.)
The more I tried to come up with my naughty list, the more I miserably failed and he just kept on trying to get it out of me. But finally, I prevailed. He was talking about Santa’s reindeer, and I blurted, “Yeah, there are only seven this year, because Comet has to stay home and clean the sink!”
He started laughing so hard, he completely lost it. So much for that scene. 😀 (And yes, I know that joke was terrible.)
I laughed too. In fact, I was giggling so convulsively, I fell off the ottoman.
Oh, and did I mention that we watched a movie, too? Which one, you ask? Miracle on 34th Street? It’s a Wonderful Life? White Christmas?
Nahhh. We watched The Bad Seed. (Hey, it’s one of my favorite old movies and he’d never seen it before. Nothing like a film about a murderous child to really bring out that joyous holiday spirit!)
So, it’s done for another year. I got past the holiday party over the weekend, too. Believe it or not, it wasn’t too bad. There was food I could actually eat, for once. The music was very loud, but it was good, and John and I got comfortable chairs right near the band, so we parked ourselves there and I didn’t have to do any mingling. I could smell pot all around me and people were getting drunk, but we left before it got too late. Oh, and we even danced a little. John’s sister
slurred told me four different times that I’m a good dancer, but I’m chalking that up to the alcohol. I got my toes stepped on a few times, but at least no one spilled a drink on me or groped my boob this year.
Whatever you’re celebrating, my friends — happy/merry/joyous everything. I hope you’re doing exactly what you want, with people you enjoy. And don’t forget, after tomorrow, the fruitcake once again goes back to being a colorful paperweight.
(Oh, come on. Who actually eats those @#$%ing things?)