Christmas with Louise
As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair
of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he
wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa
checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas
morning, although Jay's kids' stockings overflowed, his poor
pantyhose hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his dream come
true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love
doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an
adult bookstore downtown.
If you've never been in an X-rated store,
don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour saying
things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who would
buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.
I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated
doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I
could use the car pool lane during rush hour.
Finding what I wanted was difficult. "Love
Dolls" come in many different models. I settled for "Lovable
Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale.
To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap
of imagination.
On Christmas Eve and with the help of an
old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.
My sister-in-law was in on the plan and
let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come
and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant
legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained
of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and giggled for
a couple of hours.
The next morning my brother called to say
that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made
him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark,
start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.
We all agreed that Louise should remain in
her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when
they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment
she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked.
My brother quickly explained, "It's a
doll."
"Who would play with something like that?"
Granny snapped.
I kept my mouth shut.
"Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,"
Jay said, to steer her into dining room.
My grandfather, a delightful old man with
poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, " Hey, who's the naked
gal by the fireplace?"
I told him she was Jay's friend.
A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by
the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually
flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's
last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual
small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be
killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the
bathroom in the morning.
Then she lurched from the mantel, flew
around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.
The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and
Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began
administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
My brother fell back over his chair and
wet his pants.
Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out
of the room, and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and
remember.
Submitted by Sister Wink, Yunkers, NY.
