The Worst Christmas Ever

All day yesterday my dad kept thinking it was Christmas. We told him it was Easter. Over and over.

It didn't seem to matter that it was warm and sunny outside, and we could finally (he and I together) go out on scooters up and down the city bike path. It didn't matter that snow was gone, yards greening up, frogs singing, daffodils and scillas blooming. He kept thinking it was Christmas.

We kept the day low key. I've got enough on my plate these days. There was no company, no colored eggs, no baskets of grass that winds up spread over everything. There was, however a turkey roasted in the oven, along with au gratins and mixed veggies, and just for him some cranberry jelly left from a recent meals-on-wheels lunch.

Just before heading off to bed, he made his displeasure known. This was the worst Christmas he'd ever spent. Everybody'd ignored him, nobody'd made a fuss, and he felt disrespected by everyone.

I tried to rise to my own defense. First, it wasn't Christmas, so if he was expecting presents, it wasn't going to happen. Did he remember having a nice breakfast and lunch? How about our nice ride in the scooters to enjoy the nice day? Did he remember talking to Steve about the ice clearing their bay of their lake in Bemidji and it being time to set out the loon nest? Or the nice turkey dinner he'd just finished, with him getting drumstick meat since that was his favorite? And that I'd sat next to him and the boys next to us both at the dining table?

Well, yes, he remembered all that.

So who could possibly have disrespected him? It was all those soldiers who came and went through the house, in their armor, ignoring him, helping themselves to the food, and making noise.

Oh-h-h-h-h. He'd had a very short nap. I got it now. It was a dream. But try to convince him that those rude soldiers weren't real, much less that it still wasn't Christmas. I've had to tell him so many times and in so many ways that what he thinks is reality has been just a dream, I'm convinced he doesn't trust me much any more.

On the positive side, by morning there was no recollection of any disappointment with Christmas, Easter, or any other holiday. It was just another Monday morning... after a particularly restless and noisy night, but that's another tale.

Yaw-w-w-w-w-wnnnn!