Christmas Musings

Dear Readers:

It's five in the morning, and we're at Marty's Market for the fifty percent, Christmas Clearance Sale. Okay. . . get ready . . . get set . . . GO! And they're off. Mrs. Scuttles makes a giant leap with her specially toned quads and springs into action. Super action toys, aisle five; hoodies for sweet, little pumpkin heads, aisle ten. Yes! Three hoodies still there -- two green, one pink. What? It can't be true. Not that snotty, little Randy, the nosey neighbor two houses down the street.

He races up aisle ten and snatches Mrs. Scuttles's pink hoodie.

"Hey!" she protests. "Give that back."

"It's Christmas ma'am," he says, and tips his hat. "Season of good tidings and cheer. You just gave me some good cheer, so shut your trap." He snickers and races down the next aisle.

Mrs. Scuttles fumes and musters her powerful quads. She cuts Randy off at the checkout line. "Excuse me young man, I believe you have something of mine." She lunges for the pink hoodie and plucks it from his cart.

"Over my dead body! God is my witness," he snarls, and yanks it back.

"Oh, far be it from me to argue with our Lord, Randy. If dead is what our heavenly father wants, then his will be done." She kicks him in the groin, grabs the hoodie, and heads for the exit.

Two more feet to freedom. She collides into the store manager, Scott. He notices her distress. "Good day, Mrs. Scuttles. Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, thank goodness it's you, Scott," she says. "Randy over there looks a bit ill. He might need your help." She winks at him and smiles.

"Why sure, Mrs. Scuttles. I'll be glad to assist him in the same manner you chose. Far be it from me to argue with our Lord."

Merry Christmas to all.

Until later.