Saturday, January 1, 2022

Menage' et CLAUS

 Yeah I admit it, as I have gotten older I have tried to embrace hip modern culture. These days, more often than not, I use extension cord belts to cinch up my gut instead of ol' fashioned suspenders, stack actual used Campbells soup cans on my mantle instead of those ugly Warhol lithos, and the pillowcases usually match the color of the sheets on my king-sized inflatable cot. 

Like every Christmastime, my wife digs around in the attic to find some appropriate holiday decor to grace our space. If I'm lucky she will uncover at least one stale candy cane that has survived being entombed in a green or red storage container along with whatever gifts the mice have left us throughout the year. The goal is to release a herd of Rudolph stuffed animals, Frosty embroidered wash cloths, and my personal favorite - a GIANT parachute nylon, stuffed Santa pillow. The wife finds great pleasure in perching this monster softy Santa in the middle of our bed as sort of a bundling board blockade tribute to the season. 

Big deal - the guy is very jolly and adds some extra cheer to our meager bed dressings since we wash with Tide, but I'm not sure I am hip enough to have another fat dude with a flacid red hat and tighty tights in bed with my wife too! After all, it has taken me almost two score years to score 1 kid with my wife so it is clear my love life does not need any more distractions. Further, I am not sure how many more crumb-generators our mattress can handle since myself and the bed bugs have pretty healthy appetites and ugly full bibs.

So no matter how hip n' cool I long to be I guess by the 1st of the new year, I need to kick that seasonal Serta-Santa back up to his attic sleigh-bed. I certainly don't need a stupid 3rd wheel pillow-pal in my life especially when his head is even softer than mine. Hey, I'm no dummy - there is NO way I want my wife getting too used to having more than one gray-beard balding dome leaving dimpled dents in our memory foam. Now my only concern is how am I going to block all that midnight geezer-snoring ... obviously emanating from the ATTIC. 

Happy New Year!