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Posts Tagged ‘Christmas stories’

It started out so well… the annual visit to Santa — Liam and Eli sitting up on Santa’s big lap, telling him of all the toys they’d circled in The Globe making up their lists because they’d been such good boys all year long. Angelic looking…. wouldn’t you say?

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But then, once they were finished with dear old Santa and gathering up their overcoats and all their belongings to head home… the little guy Eli,ย had a thought! So as the next family in line moved up on to Santa’s lap to give them their respective lists, our little guy decided to make his move, amending his list for Santa… ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ Out of the mouths of babes. I think I loved him more when he kicked and screamed frightened silly of Santa in prior years, instead! LOL!

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This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. It won first prize!

Woof!

Christmas With Louise

As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair of pantyhose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. Every Christmas morning, although Jay’s kids’ stockings overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and headed to an adult bookstore downtown. If you’ve never been in an X-rated store, don’t go. I was there an hour saying things like, “What does this do?” “You’re kidding me!” “Who would buy that?” Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll.

Finding what I wanted was difficult. “Love Dolls” come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I’d only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for “Lovable Louise.” To call Louise a “doll” took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.

My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise’s pliant legs and bottom. I went home, giggling all the way.

The next morning my brother called all excited to say that Santa had left a present that had made him VERY happy but not the dog. She would bark, walk away, then come back and bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose for the rest of the family to admire when they came over for Christmas dinner.

Grandma noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. “What the hell is that?” she asked.

My brother quickly explained, “It’s a doll.”

“Who would play with something like that?” Granny snapped. I kept my mouth shut. “Where are her clothes?” Granny continued.

“Boy, that turkey sure smells great, Gran,” Jay said, trying to coax her into the dining room.

But Granny was relentless. “Why doesn’t she have any teeth?” Again, I could have answered, but why would I?

Grandpa, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, “Hey, who’s the naked gal by the fireplace?” I told him she was Jay’s friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa’s last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a loud, embarrassing, “bathroom noise”. Then she lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap on the sofa.

The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants. Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother’s garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise’s collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.

I can’t wait until next Christmas. Happy holidays!

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