After three busy mornings, I was able to sleep late Monday. When I awoke, I did my business outside, ate breakfast, then expected to take a long nap. But my busy-body parents had other ideas.
My Daddy went into the shed and began to bring out the colossal Tupperware tubs. I hoped he was just cleaning it out, but those dreams were cruelly crushed when he brought the boxes inside the house, including the long one that looks like a coffin and contains a dead tree.
It must be dead. It doesn’t smell alive. And it has been chopped into three sections. My parents dragged the dead tree in the house and, with three quick snaps, they raised it from the dead, although they needed to construct a stand to keep it upright. I gave it a sniff — no a sign of life.
My parents started to put lights on the tree, and then something humiliating happened. I don’t want to reveal it, but it involved lights and a photo of me that was taken without my consent. There is talk of this picture being used on a Christmas card. I have a team of lawyers who have sworn that they can quash the picture. Hopefully, you will never see it.
After that sneaky assault on my rights, I gave the crazed decorators wide berth. My Dad went to decorate outside while Mommy stayed inside, the closest to a traditional hunter/gatherer/relationship they will have. I don’t mind the outside decorating. We need our home to stand out for Santa to see it.
When I went out to pee, and check the work, I was horrified. In some medieval warning, my Dad had stuck Santa heads on spikes in the garden. What members of Clause Inc are going to visit our house after seeing how we treat Santa? The entire display was barbaric.
With Christmas dead, I went back inside to watch my Mom continue to decorate unaware that her efforts were futile since Santa would never see her work. I watched wistfully as the Olde English Villiage was placed on the television stand. Oh, how I would have liked to winter there. Their snow was white, but warm, and soft, and the people looked happy.
Finally, my parents had caused enough disorder in the house to satisfy their anti-Claus genes. I looked at the pretty lights as they sparkled, wondering if the effect was caused by my eyes which were in full squint, victims of a good nap spoiled. I must say, it did look good. I guess I can put up with the decorations one month a year.
If Santa reads this, perhaps he will take pity on Pocket and me, and as he flies over, bomb our house with toys. But do not stop here! We cannot have your head on a pike
Sometimes it takes the holidays to find out how vicious your family really is.
You are absolutely right about those Santa heads on spikes. Your family is vicious. Maybe you could put a sign outside to say that you had nothing to do with the anti-Clause activities.... and then you'll get presents!ReplyDelete
I think you need to file a Non Disclosure Clause where you claim you were not party to these atrocities.ReplyDelete
We used to have pumpkin heads on spikes but never Santa. But Santa sees every thing and will know you had nothing to do with it. Coal for your pawrents and lots of pressies for youReplyDelete
Hazel & Mabel
River we hear you... today or tomorrow (or pleeease never!) our fabulous pee mail office aka corn stalks will land on the compost pile...and scary snow freaks, fat men with beards and balls what are not for playing will appear... sigh...ReplyDelete
We think LBJ is onto something very good. Try it and let us know how it works out - we may need to do the same thing.ReplyDelete
Meanwhile, we think we may have already had a sneak peek at the Christmas photo:)
Woos - Lightning, Misty, and Timber
Unfortunately, your peeps snuck the photo onto the top of your blog. The good news is that you have enough force of presence to look dignified even with a giant Christmas bow tied on you.ReplyDelete
Perhaps you could negotiate with your barbaric Dad to replace the Santa head spikes with elf head spikes to keep away the evil shelf elf.
We think they look like Santa lollipops. But we are somewhat deranged.ReplyDelete
Misty and my minions
Oh no, we all need to keep away from those spike things!ReplyDelete
The decoration scourge has not hit my house yet. My ghostwriter has been too busy lately and Dad is still hobbling around on his new knee. I heard my peeps say they might not get a tree (dead or alive) this year. Maybe ghostwriter will go into the crawl space and find the old Christmas village, though. Oh, and don't forget, regarding that picture of you on a holiday greeting card, the Yum Yum Coalition Rules for Doggie Employment manual states the standard pay for a photo session is two yum yum doggie treats. Perhaps there's a clause in there that provides remuneration per print of said photo.ReplyDelete
Oh River, don't your parental units know it is CHRISTMAS, not Halloween? (shudder!)ReplyDelete