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Christmas with Louise
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!" and "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.
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?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure
smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to steer 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 mantle,
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.
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