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Christmas With Uncle Waldo |
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| What
do I think of when I think of Christmas? Do I think of the
carolers, the opening of gifts, the hot toddies? No, I think
of the gathering of families and a certain incident that used to take
place every year until the death of my uncle. Here is a quote from
See's Winter Holidays catalog: The Christmas Basket. "Boldy
bright and festive, our Christmas Basket is loaded with over five pounds
of seductive holiday confections: a 1 lb box of Truffles in a Gold Box,
10 oz. of Peanut Brittle, a 1 lb. box of Assorted Chocolates, a 7.5
oz Santa Box, a Peppermint Canister Tin, a can of Extra Fancy Mixed
Salted Nuts, a Milk Choclate Foil Santa, and an 8 oz. bag of See's Solid
Milk Choclate Foil Balls." Who could such a
gift be for? What huge, enormous landfill of a person
could possibly eat all of the goodies in that basket. I'm
here to tell you who. My Uncle Waldo. Good
old Uncle Waldo. What a dear, sweet man was Uncle Waldo and I
shall never forget him. He was about five foot 6.
Wide, that is. I don't know how tall, but I know that he had a
severe addiction to candy, and especially chocolate. He'd go on chocolate binges.
Sometimes poor Aunt Flo would come home and find him in a state of
choco-paralysis, a thick brown drool running down his
chin, his eyes staring off into space. Every Christmas, I
felt a real sense of pride in my family. Pride because
my Dad despised Uncle Fat Ass Waldo and would buy the above
described "See's Christmas Basket" for him. |
the
corner and we'd sneak up on the house, trying to keep our loud
snickers from penetrating the walls of our target. We would open the
door and run into the house and fling it at the bastard from about ten
feet away. In the earlier days we kids would take up
positions with the bags of Chocolate Foil balls. The moment
the basket would land in his massive lap, he would start tearing
into the chocolate, eating the foil Santa Claus without even opening it.
This is where the fun would begin. We'd start FIRING those foil
balls at his face. And we were all good shots too, almost every
shot connecting with a loud slap. I'll never forget, one
time my older brother ran in close and fired a shot that got stuck in
Uncle Waldo's chin! It was a moment I shall always
cherish. Every year, we'd
attack with glee as his hands furiously ripped into boxes of chocolates,
and tore open cans of salted nuts, both going into his chomping
cakehole at the same time. In the background, Aunt Flo and grandma
would be screaming for us to stop, to PLEASE STOP! But no!
In fact, as we got older, we got more carried away and the little foil
balls weren't good enough any more. No, we started carting eggs
and other food items in that would end up in his face. Once my kid
brother ran into the kitchen, got a pie that Grandma had made and, while
I distracted the family, delivered the pie dead into his gawking kisser.
Ahhh, my eyes water
up when I think of the sad day when men came to carry his
lifeless carcass from the house. A lot of men. It was
a sad day because we all knew that an era had ended. But, I
now have come to realize that memories are what makes life so worth
while and if we let our memories pass, we let our lives pass.
I hope you treasure your Christmases memories as much as I certainly do
mine. |
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Go
to Warmheart's Weekly Tales Go to "the inspiration for this wonderful and magical
tale"
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Uncle Waldo after a visit to a chocolate vat |
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