Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.
It's Christmas Eve, and if you're hanging around WW you'd probably like to ignore that fact. I had an idea. We can tell each other funny Christmas stories. It's okay if they are the "You had to be there" sort. If it makes you smile then it's worth telling. It's not a contest. You don't have to be Mark Twain or Charles Dickens to tell your story. Just share a smile at Christmas. If it's a bad idea it would certainly not be my first and probably not my last. I'll start;
Not so very long ago we lived in a house with an attic. We used this space to store seasonal items, such as Christmas decorations. It was my job to climb up there and retrieve the various bags and boxes of appropriate stuff just before each holiday bore down upon us. One year, after bringing all the things down a bat, who had been sleeping peacefully no doubt amongst the Christmas ornaments awoke and began flying around the kitchen where the bags and boxes were stacked awaiting use.
Our two cats, upon seeing this target of opportunity began climbing to the highest points in the room and launching themselves, superman style, across the room in vain attempts to catch the bat. My darling dearest, as I recall, said only Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! very sweetly and totally panic free of course. She began duck walking around the kitchen attempting to catch the cats. I did not know that she could duck walk and was quite amazed at this newly discovered talent of my sweetheart. Totally innocently I asked her what she was doing. She patiently explained to me that she was trying to capture the cats and lock them in the bedroom so that I could catch the bat. That didnt seem right, so I asked if she didnt think the cats were better equipped to catch the bat than I, which incited my sweet bride to stop, mid duck walk with a captured cat in tow, glare at me with the most evil look and say You know, there are times when your wise-ass attitude is neither appropriate nor appreciated. Now I hadnt been trying to be a wise-ass, I was just stating the facts as I saw them. As I stood there blinking and watching the bat do laps around the chandelier I tried to come up with a plan.
Shortly the cats and my beloved were ensconced safely in the bedroom with the door sealed tightly from the inside. I had decided to block off the doorway between the kitchen and living room, then, open the living room door and let the bat fly away to freedom. To block off the doorway I was going to use a black plastic garbage bag split lengthwise and duct taped over the doorway. Its not easy to cut those bags with scissors and as I struggled my darling bride would periodically bellow sweetly through the closed door demanding updates. Eventually I got the doorway blocked off, the bat in the living room and the front door open to facilitate his escape.
The bat, as it turns out was in no hurry to leave. As I sat there feeling the cold air blowing in through the open door I began to converse with our guest. I told him that as far as I was concerned he could stay for dinner and play with the cats to his hearts content, but that my dearest was feeling quite unwelcoming towards him. I then heard from the other side of the garbage bag what I might describe as a growl from my honey saying Theres that attitude again
Eventually, the bat did indeed fly out the front door, the cats were released from solitary and my darling stopped walking like a duck. I , of course, spent that Christmas in the dog house. Thats my story of the Christmas bat, maybe you had to be there but, I hope it made you smile.
Ken
My story involves my daughter, son-in-law, and their huge dog. They came for Christmas, and later left the dog with us while they went to visit a friend. The dog's tummy was upset from the long ride, and my son-in-law was being very particular with the dog's feeding; he told me exactly what to feed him, how and when. So, at the appointed time, I fed the dog; then husband Gene and I decided to drive around town and look at Christmas lights. We left the dog at our house, knowing we wouldn't be gone too long. What we didn't consider was the kitchen counter full of Christmas goodies, including husband Gene's special banana bread. Well, when we got back, you can guess what happened; we found a mess on the floor and the banana bread was gone. When my daughter and son-in-law returned, he asked me, all concerned, if the dog ate his supper. All I said was, "Oh, yes! He ate really well!" Later I found out the dog had also watered the artificial Christmas tree. To this day, my son-in-law doesn't know about what happened.
My story isn't nearly as hysterical and it didn't happen at Christmas, but it does have a dog in it. Does that count?
Many years ago when our daughters were preteens and I was taking a crack at being a Mother-Earth-type wife and mother, we owned the dumbest Labrador Retriever God ever placed on this earth. What she didn't tear up, she destroyed by chewing it. One beautiful sunny day, we tethered her in our back yard (our neighbors had sheep and who knows what she would have thought was fun in the pen with them). She seemed to be a happy camper sunning herself while I was in the kitchen kneading bread. Well, it was so warm out that I thought I would place the covered loaves on our patio table to rise, thinking they were well out of harm's reach. NOT SO!!!! Yep, that silly lab stretched her tether just enough to tip over the bread pans, eating every last drop. I didn't hear a thing from inside the house.
Being conscientious dog owners, we had placed a bowl of water right beside her. After all, dogs can get really thirsty while sunning themselves, right? After her yummy meal of raw bread dough that had not risen yet, she drank all the water in her bowl. The yeast did its thing, and that poor dog swelled up like a balloon. We could even hear her sloshing as she walkedno, she waddled (that's why I could envision Abby's waddle :>)). I know it had to be painful, but all we could do is watch her closely until all the 'air' had been expelled (she remained outside, of course, for obvious reasons). It was fodder for laughter in our family for quite some time. She recovered within a few hours, and I never took distance for granted after that.
Blessings to you. TJ