Another Christmas Story by Dave Benneman

Author:Dave Benneman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Celtic Moon Press

Bright headlights splashed across the white lawn and startled me awake. My arm tingled from hanging off the chair. I walked to the front door and Sylvia ran from her car into my arms.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” she asked, giving me a peck on the cheek.

“Nothing, honey, nothing.”

“You’re crying.”

“Tears of joy.” I hugged her again.

“Dad, is Uncle Moose coming this year?” Sylvia asked.

“He’s in the guest room sleeping off the jet lag.”

“Could you ask him not to call me that name? It’s embarrassing.”

“He doesn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just his way.”

“Well, it embarrasses me.”

“I’ll ask him, but it won’t do any good.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Moose loomed over the railing from the second floor. He wore a bathrobe Sylvia had picked out for him years ago. Hideous shades of green, made him look like a cross between Oscar the Grouch and the Cookie Monster. He always brought it with him when he came to visit us. His face lit up when he saw Sylvia.

“Hey, Fish Guts!” Moose roared as he held out his arms and waited for her to run up the steps to hug him.

“Hi, Uncle Moose! I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

Moose’s bear hug engulfed Sylvia.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I’ll try to remember you’re a big girl now. And you sure don’t smell like fish guts no more.”

“You look great. How is Florida treating you?” Sylvia asked, extracting herself from his embrace. She gave him an appraising look. “They aren’t starving you. That’s for sure,” she added, patting his voluminous belly.

“Florida’s okay, but I miss you something fierce,” Moose ruffled Sylvia’s hair.

“We miss you too, Uncle Moose,” Sylvia said, beaming.

“Were you a good girl this year?”

“Of course, I’m always good. Right dad?”

I nodded my head.

“I’ve got to use the privy,” Moose said. “See you in the morning, and Merry Christmas.” He kissed the top of her head and lumbered off toward the bathroom.

When the door closed, Sylvia leaned over the railing and smiled at me.

“I guess it’s okay to have one eccentric uncle, right Dad?”

“I’d say we’re very lucky to have one eccentric uncle. Merry Christmas, Fish Guts.”

“Yeah, lucky,” she mused. “Merry Christmas, Little Poop.”

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