10 of 19

Write now Article Tools

She could have cut butter with her chin. This sharp appearance, of course, was self-inflicted. A more lovely face, on any other day, would not be encountered by anyone. But after opening the many presents Santa so thoughtfully picked out for her, the scowl was a worrying sight indeed.
" I didn't ask Santa for this" she stuck the Barbie as far up my right nostril as is U.S Consumer- Safety -Commission possible. My youngest baby had been up screaming through every ungodly hour of the night, teething. I may have had an hour where I actually slept, so my body, with the exception of my dangling head, lay happily super-glued to the mattress. Even the impending rhinoplasty about to be preformed by Dr. Barbie didn't shift my hazy escape in to Never- Never land.

" Mommy?" She drew back the hair from over my eyes and for the first time a light shot through me that would shame any Forth of July fireworks.
"Huh?" My head ached while I momentarily recalled my early twenty's nightly ritual of clubbing, but never waking a single morning with a head as jumbo as I had then from sleep deprivation.
"In the letter, did I ask for this?" My only daughter decided to quit struggling to clear my cobwebs and got to the guts of the matter.
" Letter?" My throat croaked. A lone hand traveled up from my side, risking inevitable exhaustion and found swollen glands after a quick feel.
" To Santa"
" Yes, of course" I steadied myself as I sat at last wearily on the edge of the bed. I couldn't quite open my eyes but saw her through the painful slits I created.
She stood with a copy of the letter in one hand and the disheveled looking Barbie in the other.
" I specifically asked for the "TMX Elmo" Her grasp on the letter was dangerously competent.
"Specifically" I could hardly say the word myself. When did I teach her that? How could a two year old possibly say the word "specifically" That's not possible, I told myself as I looked on at her ranting.
" As you can see, nowhere on this letter does it mention Barbie. Now I ask you, where is the justice in that?"
My hand stopped her. My thoughts were still in primitive mode. " Shh..the baby's asleep. Don't wake him" I shook my head wearily at her. The finger I held up to my lips didn't quiet meet them. Fully aware that I looked not unlike some drunken bum, hallucinating to a sober and disapproving passer by, I hoped my physical appearance would deter her further.
It didn't.
" I really need your help. I just HAVE to

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Christmas disaster humor stories: You know things are going badly when...?
We want to hear your view. Write now!