Funny Christmas Stories from the Merlot Household

Growing up, my twin sister and I did things a bit...differently. Christmas was a magical time of year to shake the other twins present until you heard something break, seperate gifts into piles, compare who got more, and snitch relentlessly in the hopes her present would become your present. Ah, memories. I'd to share with you now two stories that prove two things: 1) we were certifiably insane from a young age, and 2) I'm a goddamn moron.


The Story of the Redneck Christmas Eve
While most children leave out cookies and milk for the fat bastard who breaks into your house, we didn't follow that motto. Hooo no, not the Merlot twins. One year my sister commented that Santa probably got tired of milk & cookies, and wanted something different. Dad muttered, "Santa would probably like a cold beer and a shot of whiskey." Mom was not amused in the slightest. So, what did we figure out?

Santa probably gets cold, right? So, why not leave out a can of Campbells chicken and stars soup, (nothing but the best from us), directions to the microwave, (the handle sticks so make sure you slam it closed), Chapstick, (cherry flavored), and deer jerky. Sure, we could've prepared the soup ourselves but we didn't know when he'd show up and nobody likes cold soup, amiright? And okay, so the Chapstick was dug out from the bottom of Mom's purse, but it's the thought that counts, right?

The coup de grace was the deer jerky, and we didn't realize how creepy it was until just a few weeks ago when a friend pointed out, "Aren't reindeer, y'know, deer?" "Yeah, and?" "You gave Santa deer jerky...to eat in front of reindeer. That doesn't strike you as creepy?" Huh. Well. Now that you put it like that, yes. We just figured that he got tired of sugar cookies, and hell, we liked deer jerky, who doesn't like deer jerky? It never occured to us that he might be eating Prancers' Aunt Prudence. Besides, Dad's family came from the Ozarks, Mom came from rural Idaho. Honestly, just be thankful we didn't leave out pork rinds and Michelob.




The Year a 6 Year old called me stupid in Wal*Hell and Everyone Agreed.
It was the first Christmas Stupid and I were together, and we were in Satans Playground, Wal*Mart. At Christmas time. We were standing in line at the checkout, next to a display of blow-up shit you plunk in your front yard. There was a blow-up display of a reindeer without a red nose, wearing a scarf and hat. Stupid's daughter, Smartass, asked which of the reindeer that was. After running through the list, and having them all rejected, I leaned down.

"You want to know a secret? Promise not to tell? [Smartass nods vigorously] It's Ed, Rudolphs cousin from Minnesota."
[insert "WTF are you high" look from Smartass here]
"Don't tell the other kids I told you this, else I'd get in trouble with Santa, but Rudolph...He isn't feeling too hot this year. So he called his cousin Ed in from Minnesota to stand in for him this year. See Rudolph doesn't get cold, because his fur is magical, but Ed isn't magical. Ed's just Ed. So he put on a scarf and hat, and he's flying for Rudolph this year."
"If Rudolph is magic, then how come the magic doesn't make him not get sick?"
"The magic doesn't cover preventative treatment, only aftercare. Like our craptastic HMO."
"Know what I think?"
"What, Smartass?"
"I think this is stupid. I think it's just a blow up reindeer. You're dumb."

Judging from the titters of the other people surrounding me in line, they agreed. Even Stupid stood there, probably wondering if I had been smoking too much mistletoe.




Well, folks, there you have it. Two heart-warming tales of cannibalistic dumbassery. Have a merry Christmas.