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My name is Howard. And I live in a snowglobe type of town. Every Thanksgiving Day, the snow sprinkles from the clouds. From the shingles on the houses to my baseball bat outback. The snow sprinkles the town like powdered sugar. So much for Thanksgiving day football.
Every November, I start work at Colonel’s Drugstore east of Pipplo Street. I first started work there when I was 14 since Christmas gifts aren’t cheap. I figured the Colonel would be okay with me quitting the job a week before the big day. Boy was I wrong! He threw a nasty fit. But hey, I still quit. I went back to work there 2 years later. But only because he passed away and left his Daughter and 16-year-old Granddaughter, Lynn to work there. Boy was she pretty! The Granddaughter I mean. She let me off the hook real fast when I asked if I could take a break and come back next November. That was 2 years ago, and now things are different. Sadly, in August of this year, Lynn went to New York to join the Ivy League, and now her hag of a mother is in charge.
Today, my Grandmother came to the House to stay with us until January 1st. That’s over 4 weeks away. This year I feel a little like Scrouge. I’ll I want is for my little brother Grahm to do all the work at the Drugstore so I can get 2/3rds of the money, so I can relax and enjoy the season. Well, turns out, Grahm isn’t as responsible as I was when I started work there. He broke a soda bottle and didn’t fess up to it, just because he didn’t want to pay 5 cents to make it up. So I may have told on him and may have gotten him fired. What a great brother I am. But actually, I think Grandma is the real scrouge here. She has really bad hearing, and she yells everything at us. “WERES MA POCKETBOOK?” She’d yell. She sometimes sounds mad, and that sends little 9-year-old Carrie crying. She actually just wants to find her purse. She also turns the television up loud, and you can hear I Love Lucy from the Kitchen.
Also to put a dent on the Christmas Festivities, Carrie somehow broke her arm on the swings at school. Turns out the bully pushed her off while she was in mid-air. Boy, I was mad when I found that out! I ran up to that Jerk’s house and gave him a nice black and blue eye for Christmas. I hope someday he gets pushed off a swing.
Since now I’m 18 this year, I should act more responsibly, and not beat up 14-year-olds. The one thing I hope to do this year is to get my own mustang for Christmas. And every time I ask him he says he’ll give it to me on December 32nd. I walked off feeling happy until I realized something. There is no such thing as December 32nd. Boy was I upset. But then I remembered that I still have Mom’s car, and she’ll lend it to me any time, except on holidays. So when I wanted to borrow Mom’s car on Christmas eve for a date with Lynn, she said no. So I asked Lynn to come over for dinner at our house. She couldn’t contain her excitement, and she hung up. I was hoping for a mistletoe kiss, but instead, I gotta missing toe break up. Why is it called a missing toe break up? Because it doesn’t make sense. I ask for a charming dinner with the family, she hangs up.
That night I stay up until 12:00 wrapping gifts, so on Christmas morning, I was pooped. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and I have to idea what I got for Christmas until I took a tiny nap on the sea of wrapping paper. When I woke up, I heard a car engine pull up, so I looked out the window to see what it was. It was the mustang! I tightened my robe and put on my slippers. I found a shiny red Mustang, and the engine roar was like a purr of a kitten. I smiled as I ran my hands up and down the hood. I heard my Dad behind my jingling keys. I ran up and hugged him. “Go ahead, Howard. There’s an open road out there. But hurry, up, we got family coming!” I jumped into the car and drove off. Making sure to stop by the drugstore and grab a box of chocolates and bring them to Lynn.
That evening, the whole family came over, including my second cousin, Chris. He likes Mustangs as much as I do, and once he saw the Mustang, he was shocked. “Wow wow Woah!” he said. “This is amazing!” He lifted the hood and started to mumble about the horsepower. We both went inside to say hello to family members, and start the feast. I spotted Grandma in the corner talking and laughing with her sister Clarisse. They were immigrants from Russia, and they laughed about the Christmas of 1922. She talked about how their Mother burnt the roast ham. I decided to walk up and say hello to Great Aunt Clarisse. She gave me a glare when I offered my hand and said hello. What does she have against me? She smiled and offered a hug. That was her way of joking I guess. After I hugged her she ignored me and continued to talk to Grandma.
That night after we said goodbye to everyone, I looked over all my presents and thought, “What a wonderful year.” a grumpy grandma, an angry girlfriend, a hurt little sister, and a beat-up 14-year-old. What a cool year. It was groovy. I picked up a handkerchief and thought about Grahm. I went to my Christmas cards and grabbed a nickel to bring to Grahm. I decided to give him a little Christmas gift for that Coke-a-cola bottle he broke. “Merry Christmas you son of a gun,” I said as I sat down the nickel. He picked up. “Same to you big jerk.”
Merry Christmas Everyone! Hope you like my story! It was exactly 1,030 words long. And it took a long time.
Again, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!