December 1st marks the descent into the hornidays. Or as Margaret calls them, "The Twelve Lays of Christmas." Oh wait, I'm getting ahead of myself ... and am about to back myself into a very dark place with only one exit. Just to make it more uncomfortable the way out looks like a giant raisin that can dilate. This type of observation, when I make them at kitchen table, is usually followed by Norton covering his eyes with his hands and say, "Oh John puts bad pictures in Norton's head."
Dang I'm still in the dark place ...
Time for an obloggitory mulligan.
December 1st marks the descent in the holidays (so far so good). Now, I like Christmas - it's a wonderful time, and things usually slow down enough for me that I can take time to enjoy myself and actually decompress while others get themselves wound up into walking stress balls. Norton on the other hand approaches Christmas with the enthusiasm of a nine year old. The little bugger has been living with me a couple years now and after the initial surprise he sprung on me when December rolled around, I've been nervous about going to be November 30th.
I woke up this morning to bells. Little dingle bells ... twelve of them, attached to three very unhappy looking cats. Norton had made tiny tinfoil boots for the cats and tied a small bell to each foot. The cats were spastically lurching across the floor, the bells making a noise that sounded oddly like “Bang on a Can” by Steve Reich.
Christmas music was playing somewhere in the house. I got dressed and went to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast and feed the cats who were tangling themselves in my feet. I went to open the fridge where I noticed something new hanging from the general clutter of notes, cartoons and unpaid bills. It was a note from Norton. Actually that’s not true – it was a Christmas list. I’d have to remember to drop this in Mrs. McCleary’s (I still can’t think of her as Barbara) mailbox.
When I sat down to eat Norton came in grinning like an idiot. He was holding something behind his back. After a minute or so of just standing there waiting for me to bite he handed me a large flat wrapped gift. “Happy December first. Open it!”
I did.
It was an advent calendar. Okay this is where I have to admit this was no ordinary advent calendar. It was obviously home made, but it is something that I am sure will come out every year. It was an Army of Darkness Advent Calendar.
“Well, open the first window already!”
I did and inside was a twisted up black gummy bear.
“It’s one of the zombie army dudes. Pretty cool huh?” I had to admit it was pretty cool and I was looking forward to opening the big window on December 24th.
As much as Norton irritates the shit out of me, he’s slowly grown on me. He’s more the annoying little brother than the kid you’d beat up for lunch money and over the next couple of weeks his infectious love of the holidays would rub off on me, and I hate to admit it, but he’ll make things interesting around the house if not fun.
The cats on the other hand won’t go near him …
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