As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to
fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be
true because 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 went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don’t sell those
things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If
you’ve never been in an X-rated store, don’t go. You’ll only confuse
yourself.
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 that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could
use the car pool lane during rush hour. 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.’ She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call
Louise a ‘doll’ took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve and 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 also ate
some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby
tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.
The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his
house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left
the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back
and bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her
panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came
over for the traditional Christmas dinner.
My grandmother 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 nice, Gran,’ Jay said, to steer 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? It
was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance
saying, ‘Hang on Granny, hang on!’
My grandfather, 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 noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she
lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell in a
heap in front of 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.
This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to
find out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. It won first prize.
hahaha