Pearoast No. 4
'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house
was the laughter of the father-
because he's a louse!

When my sons were about four and five years old, they still believed in Santa, so I would sometimes do fake phonecalls with the cordless phone to Santa, telling him to skip our house that year because they were refusing to go to bed or otherwise misbehaving. Since I had gone to forestry school in the northern Adirondacks and they had seen pictures of me in the snow there, they didn't question too closely that I was on personal terms with Santa- after all, that's pretty far north in their minds. The call that had the biggest impact on them was the one I made where Santa told me that he was going to be going to the reindeer stalls to fill up their stockings that year.

So what did I do? I went out and got a box of chocolate covered raisins and poured them into the stockings.

The following morning they come downstairs and grab their stocking and start taking things out when the older one stops and says, "Hey, what's this?... EEEEWWWWW! Reindeer poop!"

Some chaos ensued.

Best part? As I was getting coffee he comes running into the kitchen in a panic because his brother's eating the reindeer poop.

The next Christmas when they found their own underwear in the tops of their stockings they knew who to blame...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 17:04, 1 reply)

Reindeer poo....
I'm going to try that one next Christmas.
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Fri 18 Apr 2008, 4:07, closed)