I have not been posting much of late, but I have indeed been spinng yarns into the digi-verse. The following is but a small excerpt from the tentatively titled, A Sheeple Christmas...
It is a family tradition to gather on Christmas Eve. This year, we were gathering at my Peanut Butter Uncle’s house and we had a new addition to the gaggle of kids. After nine boys, we finally had a new cousin, and she was a girl! We always drew names amongst the boyos and we got to give a cousin a gift on Christmas Eve. Great when it’s a bunch of car crazy, squirt gun toting boys who built elaborate forts and played army, or Cowboys and Indians. Throw a girl into that mix and it is scratch your head time.
What do you get a girl?
It was also a time when my other uncle, who was a crazy hockey fan, would always be the last one at the table, trying to catch the latest game on the rabbit ears. That year, he sat next to me, the only seat left. We said grace, than commenced the passing of dishes. Now my Uncle Puck had a tendency to point and grunt. He was a man of few words, unless he was coaching us boys in the fine art of the body check. So he gave me a Gordy Elbow, grunted and pointed in the general direction of the rolls. I missed it.
Uncle Puck pointed and grunted a little louder.
I shrugged and grunted back questioningly.
It was perfect timing. Amidst the clatter and bang of the passing of the holiday meal, the exchange fell into that perfect silence. All the adults broke out into a huge laugh. Baby cousin giggled because the adults were laughing, but the boyos, they looked at me in shock.
No one questioned Coach. No one would dare make fun of him, but I had did just that. With a look that said I would be skating laps around the rink for the rest of my childhood, he gave me the Gordy Elbow and grunted and pointed. I passed the rolls, hoping I was correct. He nodded, grabbed one, and passed the bowl.
Again, a small taste of that one evening, there is much more to tell of this day and the days leading to and from Christmas. It was the Fashioned Challenged Seventies, a different time for sure. Until next time.. there just may be more of this story to leak out into the blog..