The snow was falling in slow fluffy drifts and I had decided that it was time to leave Grandma’s house. I was pretty sure that we had sufficient time to get home. It was only 8 pm, but I wanted to make sure we arrived home before the weather became too severe.
Kisses and hugs went around a couple of times. My grandmother is slick that way. She will start a round of hugs and kisses goodbye, interrupt it with some nonsensical comment about a faux pas against tradition and we wind up saying goodbye all over again. It’s really just a ploy to keep us longer.
My wife, Melanie was already wise to the strategy and so we had started our goodbyes earlier. It’s really difficult to stand up to Grandma, so I always play bad cop when it comes to my wife. Grandma says she loves her best. I say, “That’s OK! My love isn’t contingent on you returning it.” She then calls me an idiot. Everybody laughs and we start kissing and hugging goodbye, all over again.
The boys were sleepy, so luckily, we didn’t have far to travel, but the snow was definitely going to slow us down. I strapped them into the back seat with their brand new booster seats. Melanie put Michael into the left seat, and I carried my older boy, James, who was already nodding and tried to place him gently into the right side booster.
As we drove away, Grandma shouted, “Merry Christmas Donners!” I shouted back, “You too, Mrs. Claus!” She laughed; I laughed, the way we always did. It was a hop, skip, and a jump when we arrived at our cabin. I saw that my boss had loaded up his jeep, but it was standing open in front of my place.
“Where’s that fat bastard!” Melanie said.
“Honey, please. That fat bastard is my boss and my grandfather.”
“I’ll stop being mean when you receive your Christmas bonus. Did you get it yet? No!!! What is he waiting for?”
“Mel, you know tonight is Christmas, and we never get a bonus until after.”
“You’ve got kids, now! And a mortgage!”
“Whoa! Whoa! Babe, can this wait until we get the kids to bed?”
“Okay, but I’m not done,” Mel said, as she grabbed Michael. Both boys were out like lights and if history would hold true, they were down and out until tomorrow morning at 7. There could be a loud apocalyptic event and those two would sleep through it. That’s not a complaint. Many of our friends said that their kids would constantly interrupt their love making sessions. Ours did not and I preferred it that way.
“Honey, trust me, I know you’re not done.” I had picked up James and his forehead knocked into my mouth. That was going to swell my lips and speaking of love making, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. I had to go to work anyway.
After we put the boys in their room, I looked at the clock. I had to get changed. I tucked them in and kissed them both. I put my costume on, quickly. Traditions are important.
Melanie walked into the bedroom, just as I was gazing into the mirror. “Hey there, Handsome. You want to call in sick and fool around. Keep the costume on and buck me!”
My wife is so silly sometimes and I love when she gets randy. I was shocked because I thought she was looking to argue. “Babe, you know I got to go to work.”
“Oh, I got some work for you!” She turns everything into a double entendre. “Ten minutes!”
“Ten minutes? Really?”
“I kind of started without you, so I’m like more than half way there.”
That got me a little annoyed. But really, why complain. She could have left me out of it completely. “OK.” I said as if she had to convince me.
Twelve minutes later, I left my house whistling. I closed up the van that was fully packed, waiting for my co-workers to arrive. I was surprised that the huge jeep was packed, but none of my co-workers were anywhere nearby. Even the boss was late, and he was never late.
Rudi drove up at 5 minutes to midnight. We had played a prank where we had re-set his clocks two hours behind. I didn’t expect him to show up. When he got out of his F150, he was red-faced and breathing hard. He reached into the cab to withdraw an axe and Santa’s head. Rudi had not had a Merry Christmas and I could sense that mine was about to get a whole lot worse.
The Mustache and The Beard 