After we dragged ourselves downstairs on Christmas morning, I started making the first of the six or eight pots of coffee we put down that day, and Toney went to the family room to wake up Sunshine and Mumbles.
The boys were told to wait until their grandparents were in the room, before ripping into their presents. And it was like holding a pepperoni roll in front of a dog, and saying, “Not yet… Not yet…” Extremely cruel.
As predicted, it took them forever. We could hear Sunny down there moaning and hollering, “Ohhh…! Oh god!!” Every time she moves she wails in agony, on account of her mental illnesses and whatnot… Mumbles disappeared into the bathroom, and apparently took a dump. And who just gets straight out of bed in the morning, walks directly to the toilet, and shits?
The younger youngling was getting irritated, and said, “This is ridiculous!” And Toney’s brother made some kind of weird noise, which might have been a half-laugh or just fat pressing against his esophagus.
Eventually, after fifteen minutes had passed, the younger boy said, “I’m not waiting anymore,” and began ripping paper. “Hey!” I hollered in protest, and Toney shrugged, to indicate that it was cool with her. So I gave them the official go-ahead, which broke the boys from their momentary frozen state.
Another fifteen minutes later, S&M came shuffling into the room, and Sunny was pissed that we hadn’t waited for her. But nobody would even acknowledge her protests, and she dropped it before a full-rant could be reached. She’s clearly slipping; there would’ve been true hell to pay five years ago.
The boys received the main gifts they’d wanted, and became occupied with their loot. Nancy and the gang were supposed to arrive at 8 am, so Toney started making a big breakfast spread. And I went to take a shower, hoping to get that chore out of the way early, and avoid the rush.
While I was in there, with the water running, I heard something that sounded like a human head bouncing off the door. Then: “Ohhh…! Oh nooo!!” It was Sunshine, of course, and it happens every time. She feels a medicinal blowout brewing, and will try to bust through brick walls to get to a bathroom. And when the door is locked, she does a full face-plant. Heh. I think she’s walked in on everybody but me, so far.
Nancy and the gang didn’t show until about 9:30, after breakfast was already a distant memory. The oldest weirdo was red in the face, and looked like he’d been crying. I heard Nossy give him a warning outside the front door, and when they came in I greeted them with an over-exuberant Merry Christmas!
And the translucent leveled an evil stare on my ass, which would’ve made even Heinrich Himmler’s blood run cold. Shit! Once he’s able to fully harness his dark powers, we’re all doomed. Of this I am certain.
Eventually, after Nossy prepared himself a tankard of coal-black diarrhea brew, the see-thrus were allowed to open their repurposed Priority Mail envelopes, and whatnot. And it appeared to me that those kids had a 100% LEGO Christmas. I believe every single gift was somehow related to LEGO, and a few of the items were reportedly super-rare and expensive. Hey, whatever stirs your soy syrup…
Nostrildamus gave Nancy an alarm clock, which looked like some cheap crap purchased at Walgreens. But I later learned it featured a “gentle” alarm, because regular buzzers and bells are far too jarring for her delicate soul. This thing supposedly has a soothing NPR voice that says, “Time to get up… Time to get up…” Then the wind chimes kick in, and there’s a gentle running stream… And I don’t know about you, but if my alarm clock made creek noises, I’d very likely pee the bed every morning.
Nancy probably gave Nostrils his “gift” back at the motel, but I’d rather not think about it, if you don’t mind.
And from that point, unfathomable boredom took over. There were many hours of just sitting around looking at each other, absent-mindedly shoving cookies into our mouths with the heels of our hands, and sneaking desperate glances at the clock.
Nancy told us there was a Christmas tree in the lobby of the motel where they were staying, and the youngest translucent asked, “Momma, why are there plus signs all over that tree?” He thought the crosses were plus signs. How cute.
Sunshine asked Toney if she could have my Deadwood mug, and Toney said no. She’d already asked for a set of pillow cases(?), a quilt, and one of Toney’s sweatshirts. Whenever Sunny comes to our house, she walks around “shopping,” choosing things she’d like to take home with her. Who does this?? Of course, she gets mad when Toney refuses to give up our stuff. “You people have everything,” Sunshine sneers, “and share nothing.” Yeah, everything… like pillow cases. Exotic! And share nothing? They’re living at our house, eating their own weight in food each day. Grrr…
By noon, the adults were falling asleep, and Toney’s brother was snoring and making noises like a radiator. He was hissing and gurgling and snorting. It was unbelievable. Most of the others (including myself) were fading in and out, as well, and heads were whipping around in circles, as people nodded off and woke up, nodded off and woke up…
Finally Nancy and the gang left for their motel again, and invited us all to have a “soak” in their hot tub. Thanks, but no thanks, I wanted to say, I’m going to forgo the opportunity to submerge myself in a bubbling hot vat of long-haul trucker ass and hooker residue. It’s appreciated, though!
After Nancy left, Sunshine got into her “antibiotics,” slipped into a pair of lace gloves (wtf?), and had Mumbles cover her with several layers of blankets on the couch. Then she slept for three hours, or so. It was disturbing, and I later realized it was a daily ritual: pharmaceuticals, sleeping gloves, many blankets, slumber. Weird shit, man.
Toney said she was going to see if there were any stores open, because she needed aluminum foil. “I’ll go with you!” I offered. And her brother screamed, “Me too!!” Good god, we were bored to a paralytic state.
And we drove all over carnation (as one of my aunts would say), without finding one open grocery store. Or even a bar, which would’ve also done the trick. The only open businesses we saw: Sheetz gas station, Denny’s, Waffle House, and a Chinese restaurant. Everything else was completely locked down. Yes, even Wal-Mart.
But, it got us out of the house for a while. And when we returned I proclaimed it cocktail hour, which always helps ward off the boredom. To a certain extent, anyway.
And I’ll finish this tale next time. I’ll tell you why Nancy stayed away, for the most part, which has turned out to be the most interesting part of this whole ordeal. Nancy has had it up to here, Jack! So, stay tuned for the details.
And have a great day, my friends.