The Twelve Wieners of Christmas

This is a new holiday to me. I had never heard of "The Twelve Wieners of Christmas" until Fanny told me all about it. She explained that Santa Claws comes around and drops wieners into the mouths of all good little puppies. It shouldn't surprise me that we are currently celebrating a strange holiday I had never heard about previously, our family life revolves around strange customs and holidays that are not practiced by anybody else.

For example there is the fine old custom of Sunday Brunch Bacon Deja Vu. This occurs when Fanny sits on the carpet in the living room obediently in full "Ideal Dog" position while we eat our Sunday brunch in the kitchen. She is rewarded after brunch is over, by being allowed to enter the kitchen and receive a tidbit of bacon. Often she will immediately head back to the carpet to resume the Ideal Dog pose. We believe she does this in order to trick us into rewarding her again. Sometimes it works.

Once a month we are blessed with A Visit by The Best Meter Reader in The World. This is a great state occasion-- akin to a visit by The Queen of England.

Halloween is of course an international festival much beloved by children, but we celebrate it a little bit differently around here. We forgo buying any candy under the assumption that our dark house on the sparsely populated dead end street will not receive any trick-or-treaters. Invariably we will hear the doorbell ring at 8:16 and discover two adolescent boys pretending to be two other adolescent boys. In their embarrassment, they will speak no words, but mutely hold up a shared pillowcase. We will search the house for a suitable reward, thrilled that they have bothered to come to our house. We are sure that long after all the chocolate treats have been consumed, our can of Mexicorn will be a reminder of this festive holiday.

Held semi-weekly the Laura Jane is Cutting Up Chicken, Let Us Go and Share Our Urgent Need is celebrated in song and dance by all members, with the possible exception of Dave.

The First Ice Boogie isn't so much a holiday as it is a sporting event. Due to the tragic and on-going complete lack of handrails at our house, when the steps to the front and side porches are iced over I usually end up on my bottom. I have heard reports that this is quite hysterical in appearance. Last year's bruise took the shape of the Virgin Mary. Thankfully, David chose not to sell my butt on eBay.

Another sporting event is When You Hear The Microwave Ding, Attack Something. Don't look at me, this wasn't my idea. Have you ever tried to get a bulldog to change her mind? Fanny's first choice, the Basset Hound's ears, are no longer available as Otis has gone on to his doggie reward in heaven. These days, the target is either Mick, the cat, an unwary dog chew, an insolent leaf tracked into the house, or-- as a last resort-- those obnoxious air molecules.

Now you will have to excuse me. I have to run to the store in order to get ready for the Twelve Wieners of Christmas.