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Be afraid, be very afraid.

23 Dec

You’re dead asleep, middle of the night.

You hear a noise, loud enough to wake you up.

Someone is in the house.

You slide out of bed, careful not to wake the wife.

You grab your gun out of the nightstand, scared shitless because it feels heavier than at the range.

Maybe because the wife is 5 feet away.

You go into the hall.

The kids room door is open and you can see them asleep in their beds.

You make your way over to the top of the stairs, stopping to look over the railing and down into the front room.

There is some huge guy with a bag, and one of the kids presents in his hand.

Its go time, you or him.

Without hesitation, you put 3 slugs into his back and snap on the lights.

You just killed Santa Claus.

Am I the only one uncomfortable with the thought of a total stranger manhandling my kids presents in the wee hours, illegally entering and all that?

Sounds like a villain created by Stephen King.

Santa may be loved by millions, but add a little fresh blood to his beard and you have the scariest serial killer photo I have ever seen.

And what country is the North Pole in, anyway?

Santa could be just some crazed foreigner, after all.

This is getting worse as we go.

If there was some hairy old guy on your block that only wore red and lived with the misses and a bunch of midgets, kept a bunch of odd livestock, you would freak, be honest.

You would definitely check the candy he gave your kids on Halloween for needles and razor blades.

Getting chills here.

It would be like living on Michael Jackson’s street.

No you didn’t, yes I did.

Awwww, didn’t see that one coming, did you?

Despite my paranoid and weird nature, Christmas remains one of my favorite times of the year.

It usually costs a fortune, especially if you have kids.

But you don’t really mind.

I mean, you spend your hard earned money all year long, but this is for gifts to make your kids screech in total chaos in the early morn.

Doesn’t get much better.

At least, thats how it is in my family.

Christmas is a wildly loud cacophony of laughing, screaming and wrapping paper flying.

The first christmas I brought my ex wife to, we weren’t five minutes in when her eyes were rolling like a horse in a forest fire.

But to me its like home.

This year, I have more than a few things to be thankful for, heading into Christmas.

And this blog is one of them.

Merry Christmas and thank you for reading.

 

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Posted by on December 23, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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