(Part 1 of 2)  [combined... BIG]
 
As a joke, my brother 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 his list twice must be true because every
Christmas morning, Paul's poor panty hose hung sadly empty and grew
increasingly threadbare.
 
The year we adopted Tater I decided to make Paul's dream come true too.  I
put on sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love
doll.  Of course, they don't sell those things at Pet Circus or 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 almost
three hours saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!"
"Who owns that?"
 
Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.  I wanted to buy a
standard, uncomplicated doll.  I had already spent a small fortune on toys,
treats, and assorted doo-dads for Tater and finding what I wanted at a
reasonable (cheap) price 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 Finally settled for
Lovable Louise.
 
On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, while Tater helped
to redecorate the tree, Louise came to life.
 
My sister-in-law was in on the plan and she cleverly left the front door
key hidden under the mat.  In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had
come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling panty hose
with Louise's pliant legs and bottom.  I also ate some cookies left out for
Santa and swiped a handful of nuts for Tater.  Then I let myself out, 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.  He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some
more.  Well, I decided right then that, since Scooter was already confused,
I'd bring Tater along when we went over the river and through the woods
that afternoon.  After all, a Christmas tree just isn't a Christmas tree
until a ferret has his way with it.
 
I didn't tell Paul that his home was about to be ferretized but we 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.  It
seemed like a great idea, except we forgot that Grandmaw and Grandpaw would
be there.
 
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door.  "What the
hell is that?" she asked.
 
My brother, not noticing that a small explosion named Tater was going off
in his Christmas tree, quickly explained.  "It's a doll."
 
"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped.  I had several
candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut.  The tree was starting to sway
back and forth and I was glad that everyone's attention was focused on
Grandmaw and Louise.  "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.
 
[part 2]
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Paul said, trying to steer her
into the dining room.
 
"It sure does!" I chimed in as I put my arm around her shoulder and tried
to coax her toward the waiting feast and away from Louise and the quaking
Christmas tree..
 
But Granny was relentless.  "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"
 
My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, chose that moment
to sidle up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?"
 
"Now you just never mind about that; come eat and behave yourself."
Grandmaw ordered as she grabbed his arm and herded him toward the dining
room.  The rest of us followed.  I looked back over my shoulder just in
time to see a pointed, whiskered face replace the star at the top of the
Christmas tree.  Tater was looking right at Louise and I could hear the
little wheels spinning in his head as he calculated a trajectory to
Louise's head.
 
"It must be six feet; he'll never even try that jump." I thought
confidently as I returned my attention to the dinner table and its piles
of steaming goodies.
 
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
that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning.  Then
she lurched from the panty hose and flew around the room with poor Tater
hanging onto her head for dear life, then fell in a heap in front of the
sofa.
 
The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, Tater landed on
Scooter's back, and Grandpaw ran across the room, fell to his knees, and
began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation.  My brother wet his pants
and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the
car.  Scooter ran around the room three times like a rodeo dog and headed
for parts unknown just as soon as Tater let go and scampered back up the
tree.  We haven't seen Scooter since.  Yep, it was indeed a Christmas to
treasure and remember.
 
Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to
discover the cause of Louise's collapse.  We decided that Tater had made
a mighty leap onto her head and, just as he landed, 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.  Louise
went on to star in several bachelor party movies, but we don't let her and
Tater play together any more.
 
I think Grandpaw still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.
 
Joy to the World!
 
Paw Paw
http://members.aol.com/emssandy/personal.htm
[Posted in FML issue 2979]