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December 23rd, 1999
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.


One more day flu free. I am truly the Queen. My only fear is that this nasty bug is just biding it's time until the weekend and I'll find myself unwrapping presents with my head in the bowl.

My mom and dad are alive and well in Florida. My brother has enlisted their service in making a fluorescent mockery of his home. I have the picture to prove it. ::sticks out her tongue:: Nice job, Nic. Really. Even more impressive that you got our elderly father to shinny up the palm tree to string all of those lights. Mom and Dad don't even undecorate their tree every year. They just pick the little thing up completely regaled and plunk it into the closet for the next season. Must be the drop in altitude. Poor, sweet things.

My mom's monolithic plant is also alive and well. I'm afraid the Poinsettia is dead, though. It appears someone has drowned it. I am sure it was the aforementioned hideous bush on the table. When I came in yesterday the Botany channel was on the television and something was cooking in the oven. It scares me.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! You have less than 48 hours to get all your ducks in a row. Sedate them early so you can wrap them!

And now, in keeping with the true miracle that is Christmas, I offer you this.

(
Authors note: I must go on the record and state that I've never had a visit from the police to my home at Christmas time, but those nice firefighters and I are on a first name basis. Also, my kids never fight. Ever. They love each other, respect each other's personal things and are sweet, angelic creatures sent straight from Heaven. Now if you'll excuse me, it's Prozac time.)


'Twas the night before Christmas, the children were fighting and my neighbors had called the police on their rioting.

A cruiser was parked at the end of the drive, and in just a few moments the cops would arrive.

I could already see my neighbors a peeking to see what fine chaos my kids had been wreaking.

As I stood in the doorway, my hands all a shaking, I just new that I'd never get done with my baking.

When up to my door came a fine lad in blue and before he had spoken I knew just what to do.

"Hi, Officer. I know. Yes, I'll settle them down. It's just that they can't seem to quit running around.

It's the brownies, the cookies, the sugar and cake. I think that they're tasting whatever I bake.

Now add to that Christmas and Santa's appearance, and I can't find a thing that can crack their endurance.

Just a moment. Hey, Michael! Get out of that tree! And away from the oven, you don't need to see!

All right, that is it! Julie, put down that cat! You know that he hates it when you swing him like that!

Who turned up the TV? Can you please tone it down! You've already woken up half of the town!

Okay, you two. Stop it! I have had just enough! You better not test me and make me get tough!

Michael, put that down! You cannot drink that rum! You know that you can't have that until you're twenty-one!

Oh great, now you've done it. You've broken the punch bowl! You're grandma gave me that for my wedding, you know!

Quit pulling the leafs off of my Christmas Poinsettia! You had better listen to me, Julie! Oh, yes, you had better!

Super. Do you hear that? The baby is crying! I'm beginning to think you two have your hearts set on dying!

For twenty-five days I've done nothing but shopping! I've baked and I've wrapped until I've felt like dropping!

I can't take one more minute of this pre-Christmas crap so sit your butts down or I'll turn you over my lap!

Santa is not going bring you your presents unless you quit acting like insufferable peasants!

You won't get a thing! I'll pick up this phone! Just dial up Santa and tell him to keep his fat ass at home!

I mean it! I've had it! Get your butts on that couch and don't move a muscle, especially your mouth!

Can't you see we have company standing out in the snow! I'm so sorry, officer. Hey, where did he go?

   

Unless otherwise specified, all material
Copyright 1999 by
Marijke Hildreth

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