I promised you a little chrimbo ficlet, it's not what you wanted. Sorry.
But I hope you like it anyway.
My writing muse was on holiday the last days ... but this morning at 10.30 a.m. to be exactly I knew what to do.
I put on the radio at 4.30 a.m., very low, just in the background and every third song since is Jingle Bells. Don't get me wrong - it's a very nice song, very Christmassy but at the moment I can't stand it anymore... *sigh*
So this came out half an hour ago:
Title: Jingle Bells
No beta, all mistakes free for the taking as usual.
I don't own the boys, I wish I would *g*
September – it was the first time Casey hummed Jingle Bells… I laughed at him but I couldn’t stop him either.
October – more Christmas songs … to Jingle Bells came Rudolph … Winter Wonderland (on a sunny and warm autumn day!) and Last Christmas (we haven’t been together then…) - I couldn’t stop him.
November – I hate Christmas songs. Soon it’s Yule – and good grief - he’s so Santa-mental… ‘Jingle Bells’ (still his favourite) and ‘Santa Claus is coming ... blablabla’ – slowly Christmas songs got on my nerves – not matter what I said, no matter (really NO matter what I DID) - I couldn’t stop him.
December 20th – what the heck! Christmas cookies. He made some for me labelled with sugar icing "Against Christmas panic". They taste awful! There are stockings hanging on the mantelpiece, Casey looking like a small version of Santa Claus himself. And again – now more than ever - Santa on Radio, on TV, DVD (!!!), posters on the walls, Santa pictures taped on the door. To cap it all he put a little Santa IN MY CAR! I’ll kill him… sooner or later, probably sooner.
I need a break from all the things happening. And he asks me – seriously – if I’d go for Christmas presents??!! Go to hell! So what? A Gingerdead Man? A Starwars mug? Holy shit! No presents EVER! He’ll get me – should be enough.
God, he’s such a kid! His eyes were sparkling with joy when he started writing letters to Santa Claus all over the world. There is Santa Claus, Indiana 47579, USA, Santa Claus, Reindeerland, SAN TA1, United Kingdom, Santa Claus, Christmastown, North Pole, 9999, Australia and to Santa Claus, North Pole H0H0H0, Canada. He won’t leave nothing to chance he says. And I am powerless!!! I. CAN'T.STOP.HIM!!!
IF I’d write a letter to this old nerd it would be short:
Dear Santa – fuck you! Go back to your Winter Wonderland, saddle Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer and take your fucking Jingle Bells with you.
Sincerely not yours,
Casey sings on and on and on – believe me, I’m close to bursting. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop him. Those f... jingle bells are ringing in MY ears, in MY head.
“You don’t like Santa, Zeke?”
“There IS no Santa, Case…”
“You never believed in Santa?”
“No. Imagine - there’a fat guy called Santa Claus who comes and gives good children presents, miraculously entering homes and putting presents into shoes, socks and under the X-mas tree.”
“But isn’t it a lovely idea? You’ve been a child, Zeke. Don’t tell me you always hated him.”
“That motherf… old nerd ate cookies and kissed my mother …”
“I bet it was your dad…”
“At this time I didn’t know Santa was my father … I was … shocked!”
“Come on! Never ever in your life you’d be shocked! … But the presents, Zeke? How about the presents?”
“Presents? He never left something for me besides … “
“He told me what a spoiled brat I was…”
“You got no presents? Not the tiniest little gift?”
“I love him – no matter what!”
“Awww, come on. Santa is obviously a senior faculty member with tenure!
It’s an old man, an old fat man – driving a … sleigh. By the way they should never give a license, to a man who drives a sleigh and plays with magical magical elves…”
“He plays with elves?”
“’course, he’s a perv! “
„Santa Claus is a reincarnation of two heathen gods (at least) - Thor the thunder god of Asgard and Heimdall - and Mars the god of war. - they all have great beards, ride in a carriage driven with two or more goats or reindeers, across the sky. - it's the same image... this has been smuggled to people... - like a marketing genius planned it... - maybe Satan himself. Change the letters and you’ll get SANTA..”
“How do you know this?”
He bursts into laughter!!?!?!
“You did a research on Wikipedia ?”
“There is no Santa Claus, there was no Santa Claus …”
“So why do you hate him if he doesn’t exist?”
My anger increases. Slightly. No – enormously.
“When I was a child I loved sitting on Santa’s lap…”
“To do what? Grab on his beard, pulling his nose… I’d quit that job …”
“But I think it’s a great job to give gifts to the children of the world…”
“There no logic in it. Take his trip to deliver the gifts: Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, skinning his knees, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.”
“If’d be Santa – I’d quit that job…”
“Come on, Zeke. ”
“Sure. I said – IF I’d be Santa I’d quit the job …”
“I’m imagining how the world would react if people would realize he’s gay.”
“Hey – who has a soft spot for this old fellow… I bet it’s not only Rudolph’s nose that is read when boys are sitting on his lap!”
“White-bearded man wearing a red velvet coat with white collar and cuffs, white-cuffed red velvet trousers, and black leather belt and black engineer boots. Think Casey!!!“?
“Why didn’t you tell me you hate Yule, Santa and Christmas THAT MUCH! It’s a wonderful time for love and friendship…”
“And the rest of the year it isn’t? Come on… stop that shit!”
Well done Mr. Tyler.
You made your boy cry, you made a real mess of his holidays. I’ve to concede – he tried so hard to make it Christmassy. Santa Advent calendar, candies, candles, a plate ’cookies for Santa’, poinsettias, mistletoe, a holiday plug with our names on it, red and gold foil lanterns, stars on the windowpanes, … if I’d like Christmas I’d jump for joy. My house never was that …shiny, neat and … overloaded. I have to make amends, he deserves at least a little bit of enthusiasm.
“Case? I won’t ruin your Christmas, I’m sorry, really – maybe I could be your Santa Claus. Treating you like an … elf…”
“No, this wouldn’t be you. You’d be a Yuletide Rambo…”
“You won’t me believe you’d be a good natured ‘normal’ Santa. “
“Definitely not…What’s bad about that?”
“I won’t even have a naughty or nice list!”
“Sure… there IS a list! You know me – I’m all set!”
“Naughty nor nice?”
“Why do you have to ask? So come one - I’m not Santa but you can … sit on my lap to get your Christmas present. “
From his mischievous grin to the devil in his eyes my boy is doing better. The wicked radiating smile proves me I’m doing right. The look on his face is pure anticipation. This beautiful young man will be ready to explode and he knows exactly what he wants… and so do I.
“Hmmm…” it’s more a growl …
“You could be right…”
“Santa could be gay…”
I can’t help but laugh, fishing for a breathtaking kiss…all lips, all tongues, all everything and beyond.
“Merry Christmas, Santa Baby…”.
‘Time for a little premature Christmas present’ I’m whispering in his ear… with his legs around my waist I’m turning on the radio – and there it is – my boy’s favourite Christmas song “Jingle Bells” .
Oh yes, Santa Baby - I’ll jingle your bells until your ears ring! No fibbing.
Again Happy Holidays to all of you!