Four am and both Annie’s are jumping on my bed screaming, “He came Slam he came!”  They have only been doing it for the last two hours.   Then the pig starts oinking and jumping, and the dogs are barking.   Kiko has been here for the past month and all of Duh-Wayne’s old hunting dogs.   I don’t even think he hunts and why his dogs are at my house napping on my bed, sniffing the turkey and drooling, I have no clue.   It’s a good thing Grandfather works over nights or there would be no room for him.  I mean our bed is only so big.   I don’t worry about it breaking anymore.   I mean eventually there is nothing left to break.

Christmas music is playing loudly on surround sound, Christmas lights are so bright the sunglasses and face mask I wore to bed do not even begin to lower the glare.   There are Christmas gifts in every single inch of the house.   All of them say Annie  or Annie Jr. and the back yard is full of dump trucks brimming with presents.   Two trucks every hour for twenty-five days; for each Annie was a lot; plus the several trucks from last year.   Christmas cookies, gallons of milk, hay, carrots and 45 pounds of sugar is cluttering my kitchen. Food for Santa, his elves and the reindeer.

The fire place Annie and Duh-Wayne built just for Santa is burning brightly.   The stockings are hung.   All of them are tiny with, little candy canes coming out the top except the Annie’s which are 84 feet long and brimming over with gifts.   I follow the boot prints to a cage and let Santa out.

She does it every year, traps Santa.   He is used to it and just comes to our house last.   He was early this year.  “Sorry Santa,” I say as I open the lock.  “I didn’t expect you until five. You want coffee?”

“No no,” Santa says pulling his beard.   “I have to get going.   Annie gave me one of last years dump truck and there is a vacation to Hawaii in there, the Mrs. will be pleased.  She needs a vacation after all those chocolate bucket of birds candy she made this year.    Be good cats Annie and Annie Jr.   You get better and better every year.  Merry Christmas!” he yells and he puts his finger aside his nose and goes up the chimney, his rear end totally on fire from the huge blaze Annie has going on.

I figure Santa will stick his smoking butt in a snow bank, I mean he had to had smelled that rump roast cooking behind him or at least felt it.   I head off to the kitchen.   I want to get it cleaned up.   Annie had a 50 pound turkey she was planning on stuffing and deep frying in the fry Daddy.   I have no idea how she had even planned on getting it in there because it only fried a generous portion of fries at one time.   I wanted to get the turkey in the oven while Annie was occupied opening ‘just one gift’ before breakfast, that I was supposed to make.

Several elves are lounging around drinking milk out of shot glasses and eating cookies.   Annie ‘brought back from the past’ my old doll highchair I used to set out for the elves to sit in on Christmas eve,  it sat in the middle of the floor and a couple elves were relaxing and eating.  I still didn’t believe her time machine worked.   I figured she had bought all of it on Ebay, the balance on my ‘magic card’ was as negative as the thermometer outside was predicted to go.

“You didn’t go with Santa?” I asked, tripping over a reindeer.

“Annie said we could stay for turkey dinner, she put it in the deep fryer a couple hours ago.”   they all replied;  well, the reindeer didn’t they were lapping up sugar, carrots and raisins…wait that wasn’t raisins.   I wondered what reindeer poo looked like.

I checked the deep fryer.   Nothing was in there.   “There’s no turkey in here,” I announced.

The elves all laughed.   “A turkey would never fit in there.   The fryer in the back yard.”

Sure enough Duh-Wayne had a huge fire going in the back yard atop the fire was a huge metal drum, he and Annie apparently  filled with oil. Duh-Wayne was frying the turkey.    They were bound to blow us to kingdom Come.

I shrugged and began breakfast.   The elves and reindeer had finished everything Annie had left out for them and were standing beside my elbow at the stove with plates waiting for the breakfast Annie had promised.

With breakfast out of the way we opened out gifts.    I got three coffee cups Annie took out of the cupboard and a little stocking filled with cat food and a tiny candy cane.   Grandfather got the same thing but three plates instead of cups.   He was grateful.   Duh-Wayne got a couple  left  over dump trucks and had a fit about Annie re-gifting.  He was hoping that one of them contained the Big Mac from ’83, though.   He was convinced that Big Macs tasted better in the ’80’s and it was his opportunity to find out.   His face fell when Annie insisted if he found it he had to give it back.    Aunt Paulie called.   She said she had gotten Annie’s gift.   All the boxes in her dump truck were empty except for one that contained a can of pork and beans and in another a disposable enema.   Like the beans weren’t enough to make her poop.   K8, Phil and Morganna got dump trucks too.   They got presents, I had bought and for some odd reason was unable to find on Christmas and some old tic tacs and melted M&M’s.   The rest of the pets got small stockings full of cat food and nothing else.   It was stale.

Annie spent the day slowly opening her gifts.   Hours past and finally she took a break to check her turkey.    She pulled it out and put it on a plate.   It still had it’s head on.   Duh-Wayne was smelling the air like he was in heaven.   At that moment, Duh-Wayne’s old hunting dogs burst into the yard and ate the entire turkey.    Annie shook her first and screamed Duh-Wayne.

“Well we will all go out for dinner,” Annie announced and suddenly we were all teleported to the soup kitchen where a dinner was being served to those who did not have a meal.   “Hi Annie,” They all yelled.

Merry Christmas Annie!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.