Christmas 2013 - Holy Jeez!
Well Christmas 2013 is finally over (thank goodness!) and all I can say is HOLY JEEZ WHAT A CATASTROPHE! Now holidays with my family have always been a little crazy but this one, let me tell you, surely takes the proverbial cake!
It all started around 2pm on Christmas day when I arrived at the home of my cousin Kevin and his wife Maria (it was their turn to host this year). Kevin greeted me at the door and, as usual, reeked of cheap Canadian whiskey. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with him but from the moment we exchanged holiday wishes it was quite clear that there was definitely something "off". While doing the traditional catching up with the rest of my family, many of whom I had not seen since last year, I periodically looked over at him noticing that he appeared to be quite withdrawn. He sat in his chair wide-eyed, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, taking frequent sips from his highball glass. Maria went over to him a few times, briefly conversing with him. I’m not sure what they were saying as they were speaking very quietly but there appeared to be a lot of tension between them. When the smoke detector suddenly went off they ceased being so quiet.
“Goddamn it Kevin! I told you to do one fucking thing!” Maria screamed as she ran to the kitchen. “Great! The fucking ziti’s burned you asshole!”
And boy was it ever! That ziti was black as black and oozing with smoke! Holy Jeez!
“I’m sorry, I forgot,” Kevin said.
“Of course you forgot you fucking asshole! You always forget! I’m surprised you remember to take your dick out of your pants before you take a piss you stupid bastard!”
“I said I’m sorry Maria.”
“Sorry doesn’t unburn my fucking ziti asshole!”
“Calm down Maria,” said Aunt Ellie, “It’s just ziti. We’ve got plenty of other food here.”
“It’s not just ziti! It’s not!”
“I said I was sorry,” Kevin said, “What do you want me to do? You want me to run to the supermarket and see if I can find something pre-made?”
“The fucking supermarket is closed you moron! It’s Christmas Fucking Day!”
“Sorry, it was just a suggestion.”
“You can shove your fucking suggestions up your fucking ass you sonovabitch!”
Everybody was like, “Holy Jeez!”, reminding her that there were children present. Maria explained that she did not give a fuck then went on to suggest a strong correlation between Kevin’s alcohol consumption and his absentmindedness of late which she characterized as chronic. Throughout her long and loud explanation she referred to him several times as a fucking asshole and a bastard and a fucking bastard, at one point turning to him to inquire whether there was shit in his skull in place of brains.
After her long, profanity-laced tirade, Maria retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The rest of us sat down at the table, trying our best to put her muffled sobs out of our heads as we dined. I was admittedly a bit disappointed over not getting to have any ziti but, as Aunt Ellie noted, there was plenty of other food.
“Daddy, why is mommy crying,” Little Kevin, Maria's and Kevin’s six year old son, asked.
“It’s just a woman thing son,” Kevin said, “Eat your supper before it gets cold.”
About half way through dinner Maria returned and took a seat at the table. She had calmed down and appeared to be relatively serene at that point, though she and Kevin spoke hardly a word to each other.
Shortly after dinner, when the table had been cleared and the dishwasher loaded, it was time to open presents. By then Kevin's and Maria’s earlier shouting match seemed like a faded memory which had since been supplanted by the joy of the season and the sound of gifts being unwrapped. Somewhere in there Little Kevin decided to show everybody how adorable he was by saying, “I saw mommy kissin’ Santa Claus.”
“You did?” asked Grandpa.
“Yeah,” Little Kevin said, “underneath the mistletoe last night!”
“Oh my!” Grandpa said, “Don’t let your daddy hear about that one!”
At that point, I looked over at Kevin who was looking really mad, shaking his head back and forth and muttering something under his breath. He stormed off then came back a minute or so later with his .357 in hand. “You fucking whore!” he shouted, pointing the barrel at Maria. Before anyone could say or do anything he shot her right in the face and she fell back.
We were all like, “Holy Jeez!”
“Mommy!” Little Kevin screamed.
“What the fuck Kevin!” I said, momentarily forgetting there were kids around.
Kevin surveyed the room, taking note of what he had just done, then put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Holy Jeez times two! There was blood and brains everywhere! It was like a big lasagna exploded all over the living room, only much more disgusting! It really killed my appetite for dessert I tell ya!
Needless to say the rest of the night was quite a hassle with the paramedics and the medical examiner showing up to do their thing and the police keeping us there half the night to question us one-by-one. I just wanted to go home and go to bed but realizing that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, I pulled out my phone and watched pornos until the battery ran out of juice.
“Say Little Kevin, you wouldn’t happen to know where your mommy or daddy's phone charger is kept, would you?” I asked.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Uncle Abe said, “Can’t you see the kid is shaken?”
“Sorry, it’s just that my phone is dead. Like Kevin dead,” I said.
Anyway, there ended-up being a big what-to-do over Little Kevin and the police weren’t going to let any of us leave until we could assure them that someone would be taking care of him. My sister and her husband finally volunteered to take him home, thank goodness! I’m sure glad I didn’t get stuck with him. I don't do well with kids to begin with, let alone one that keeps waking up in the middle of the night screaming and crying hysterically.
Believe it or not, Maria didn’t actually die. They’ve got her all hooked up to machines to keep her eating and breathing and all that other stuff. Her family is deliberating over whether or not to Terry Schiavo her. Honestly, I don’t know why they’re waiting, it ain’t like she’s gonna get any better. I mean Holy Jeez, the girl ain’t got no more brains! Believe me, I know, I watched them fly out the back of her head and hit the wall behind her!
Family – what can you do?
Here’s hoping next Christmas will be less chaotic!