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As
a joke, my brother 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 were 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 Walmart. 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.
The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. 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, 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. -->
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Louise
Cont'd
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 had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where
are her clothes?" We steered her into the dining room. But Granny
was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could
have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted
to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny! Hang
on!"
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 that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the
morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, 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
and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat
in the car.
It
was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's
garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause
of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from
a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks
to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.
Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think
Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.
Merry
Christmas to all and to all a good night!
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