Friday, December 5, 2014

Dear Santa -- 2nd of 4

Image from rackandshelf.com

If you have not read Dee's first letter to Santa click Dear Santa No. 1



Dear Santa,

   It’s me again. Dee, the woman from the Thanksgiving Day parade. My son moved home and my daughter’s having a baby, remember? Well, Becca's not having a baby right now, but maybe by the time you get this letter.
   My daughter, and her husband Thurman had a setback. Thurman’s a policeman. Very nice man. Becca’s a loan officer at the credit union. Anyway, their house caught fire. Thank goodness no one was hurt and the house didn’t burn to the ground. But there was extensive smoke and water damage, so it looks like it’ll be after Christmas before they can move back in.
   Marvin – you remember my husband that died three years ago on Black Friday? I do miss that man. He had no idea how much we’d need the basement. The kids being grown and gone by the time he got around to it. I just thank goodness he put in the bedrooms and bath. My cat Cleo and I are in the front bedroom down there. Rodney – you remember my son? The one with the rabbits? He’s in the back bedroom.
   I let Becca and Thurman have my bedroom and their two boys have the other upstairs bedroom. Maggie, my five-year-old granddaughter, is sleeping in my sewing room on the futon. That’s upstairs, too. So Becca’s family is all upstairs.
   And their two Labradors.
   Cleo wasn’t best pleased when the dogs moved in. We had quite a rodeo. They didn’t know much about cats. I guess Cleo decided to indoctrinate them right from the get-go. She bowed up and hissed and spit at Buddy. He’s the old dog. Poor thing. He wasn’t sure how to act, but then she slapped him – claws out – right across the muzzle. He wasn’t having that at all. And the chase was on.
   Becca may be pregnant out to here, but she reacted immediately, plunging headlong after Buddy. The younger dog Rocky cowered against Thurman’s legs and tripped him when he tried to help Becca. Those two boys laughed to high heaven and Maggie screamed like she was the one being chased.
   I was so shocked, I just stood there watching the cat, the dog, and the pregnant girl. Through the living room into the dining room, then the kitchen and back into the living room. Cleo must have recognized me as some kind of King’s X. Her second time around she ran right up me. Thank goodness Becca grabbed Buddy’s collar before he climbed up me, too.
   Cleo’s staying pretty much in the basement now. We have to keep the door closed to the storeroom where the rabbits are. I don’t know if she’d hurt them, but she certainly paid them a lot of attention, so I’d rather be safe than sorry.
   You know, even with Rodney changing their litter every day, it’s pretty ripe down there. I asked him what he plans to do with those rabbits. He said he’s not sure.
   We don’t really need anything. The insurance gave Becca and Thurman some money to replace some of the necessities. They’d already bought most of their Christmas presents and were hiding them at his mother’s house. So come Christmas Eve, the kids will still have a nice visit from you.
   Thurman’s mother has a nice house. They’d have stayed with her, but she’s the nervous sort and they were afraid the three kids would be too much for her.
   We went to the thrift store and got a bassinet, some linens, and clothes for the baby when she gets here. It’s a girl, did I tell you? They’re going to name her Sylvia after his mother.
   I know you’re busy – and heaven knows I am too – so will sign off for now.

Sincerely,


Dee

for Dee's next letter to Santa click here.

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