Another Bell Christmas

Another holiday with the Bell clan has come and gone and not without a mad moment in the slightest. Suffice it to say the week in Arkansas didn't fall short of my expectations and offered up any number of perverted pranks, a constant six dog pile-up, rubber chickens (just in general), an expected but nonetheless rekindled love interest, Neil Diamond, Nazi-like sewing lessons, pie gates and countless holiday beverages by the fire. Silent Night, Holy Night, I think not.

I'll touch on the high points...

The First Morning

I was awoken to two [Methodist] golden retrievers placing slobber-garnished rubber chickens on my face. Fair enough. They wanted to know why somebody was asleep in this bed that was always empty and wanted to offer this newcomer a welcoming token. So, I received their friendly welcome by jumping up and screaming at the top of my lungs. And off they shot out of my room, but not before snatching up the prized chickens that had fallen at their feet from my abrupt jolt from bed.

Pleased, I let my body fall back into my warm bed (thank you, electric blanket). What I didn't know at the time, was that two of those monsters would soon be joined by four other slobber-capable canines in a matter of hours: two english bulldogs, one chow mix and one mutt, creating a six dog pile-up that I, in general, spent the rest of my time in Eureka trying to avoid.

Christmas Day

As the whole gang sat in the living room opening presents, one by one in order of age, a determined knock at the front door interrupted the charade. Beau jumped up to answer the knock while three of the six dogs darted off into the darkness. He came back, smirking, with a large package in his hands and handed it over to Dad. The package was addressed, "Emergency: To be delivered to the residents of 699 CR 140." Dad wearily unadhered the weathered tape and then ripped the mysterious box open. Inside lied a note, a zipped-tight mini body bag and dirtied clothing. As the room went silent, Dad slowly tugged open the dark mini bag to find the infamous Jerry Mahoney, dressed in ripped up rags and dirtied clothing. The note accompanying Jerry read as follows:

"To whom it may concern: As I was driving my truck along I-40, I came across this young man nearly unconscious and weak from exhaustion. I hope you are not Chuck or Suzie because the only thing he was able to mumble seemed to be, 'don't take me to Suzie or Chuck, presentation is not everything...' I did manage to look in his pocket and find this address, so I brought him here. Please help him, he may not make it. Signed, A friendly truck driver."

A ROAR of laughter erupted and my mother was on her feet, arms outstretched to Jerry, guilty smirk displayed. As she took Jerry, placed him in the chair she was previously sitting in and went for the lone present under the tree, I took a moment to wonder just how subnormal each family was supposed to be. Sure, everyone's family is weird. But this...the doll saga of Jerry Mahoney, I am beginning to think it beyond the normal oddities the everyday family posesses.

However, weirdness is relative. For entertainment purposes, I prefer the craziness. But that should be obvious to anyone who has met me even once. Which means, yes, I like the drama.

The Pie Gate

Yes, the pie gate saga continued this year, and my mother paraded the items (created by Pampered Chef to gate ones pie in place once a slice has been removed) each holiday. This year, April did receive one in her stocking. As I saw her horror and subsequently my mother's delight, I cautiously reached to the bottom of my stocking in fear of the same shame. To my immense delight, I am still a proud pie-gate free individual. HA. Yeah!

So, the holiday season remained no more odd or less dramatic than the others, which was just the way I wanted it. Perfection.

As I flew back into the Valley of the Sun, it felt good to be home (which is odd to say 'home' about a place that's still relatively new to me). And then, just as I come back, off I go again. VEGAS HERE WE COME.