“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Santa says. “Has everyone been good this year?”
Tenuous nodding of heads.
“Let me check my book,” Santa says, as he reaches in his jacket accompanied by nervous looks around the peanut gallery.
Santa thumbs through his notebook and says, “Umm, looks like Dave and Dan shot out windows in Uncle Keith’s sheep shed.” The aunts and uncles and older cousins give loud agreement and more details to Santa’s accusation.
My brother Dave and Uncle Pat’s son Dan had a reputation for getting into trouble. I could barely remember when Uncle Keith last had sheep on his farm so the shed was unused and Dan had a new BB gun; therefore, the windows were asking to be shot out.
After getting a promise from the perps that they would be good in the coming year, Santa moves on.
“Where’s Bub and Steve,” he asks.
“Oh, oh, now what?” I wonder.
“I see you boys threw mud balls at Barb’s doll house and broke some furniture.” More yeas and shaking of fingers from the jury.
Well. Bub was Barb’s older brother and he started the action so I just offered assistance but I was convicted nevertheless.