darlene! do we need this chicken juice?

The Festivus Pole at twenty one forty five never fails to disappoint when it comes to confusing conversation, and Christmas 2005 was no different. Just a taste:

“I imagined that motorcycles were driving around in here just now.”

You can thank LittleBro for that one. During the Christmas Eve service at the Church I grew up in and which MJW and Her Honor still attend, a certain solo performance of “Happy Birthday Jesus” was, frankly, so wretched that something had to break it up. When LittleBro made that little gag, we started laughing like two little kids. I guess the Whitten boys still know how to cause a disturbance in Church. See the collection plate theft incident of 1988.

“That horse is still for sale.”

Uncle Terrell. Our attempts at demonstrating the beautiful palomino Missouri Foxtrotter Glory’s strut were not going well. She apparently isn’t fond of being the center of attention, and I hold the dubious distinction of having the “ability” to make any horse pace. So, I had to kick her like I meant it, and the next thing I knew I was at a full gallop in the big circle arena. That, friends, was quite fun, but didn’t bode well for the safety of everyone involved. I still want that horse though.

“Wear it to work when it gets cold.”

Her Honor. As a stocking stuffer, she bought me a new ski mask. It looks like Skeletor. When I reminded her that wearing a ski mask to work when my office is in the largest privately owned bank in the United States has all the makings of a very bad idea, she failed to relent. “I don’t want you to catch cold up there.”

“He’s going on vacation. Apparently, he makes more money than the rest of us.”

Spoken by a certain gentleman as he was wearing the new Rolex he got for Christmas.

“It was the Three Dog Night version, so you lose.”

I love the game Cranium. One of the songs a certain team had to guess while their partner hummed the tune was “Joy to the World.” We got their answer thrown out based on the fact that Isaac Watts did not have in mind the fact that Jeremiah was a bullfrog when he wrote that song in 1719. Trust me, I know, he was a good friend of mine.

“Take home some of that gravy, it’s made with bits of real panther, so you know it’s good.”

Aunt Karen. I had no idea she liked “Anchorman.” But, that gravy was good. It stang the nostrils.