Christmas day was fun at Casa del Jasperson. We had our traditional dinner with friends who have the same vegan-married-to-a-carnivore dichotomy, and four grandkids were there too, so it was a perfect day. The best thing about days like yesterday is what I think of as “old-people’s MTV” (when it used to be music videos all day long instead of scripted un-reality shows): the Hallmark channel’s fire log with the cats and dogs. Just like a toddler parked in front of Disney’s “Frozen,” I could watch it all day.
And I did.
As many of you know, author/blogger David P. Cantrell is my good friend and writing buddy—he reads everything I write before I inflict it on my editors. Dave recently came up with a challenge based on a T-shirt he had seen an ad for:
So here is my burnt offering:
It was my sister’s fault.
Mostly. I also feel the Frigidaire company is partly to blame. They should make their products less prone to tipping over.
It all started because we were robbed on Halloween. Mrs. Sullivan gave out Snickers Bars, and Mr. Gentry gave Hershey Bars. Mrs. Morris had handed out M&Ms. In fact, all of Plum Street was handing out chocolate, so we knew we really did well that night. Chocolate is our favorite candy, so we were quite excited about having made such a grand haul. It was the best trick-or-treat night ever.
But by the time we had washed the face paint off our faces and changed into our jammies, and were allowed to sort through our candy, all that was left in our bags were Skittles, LifeSavers, Jujubes, Jolly Ranchers, and Tootsie Pops. I’m sure thieves snuck in and did it while Mom was watching Dancing with the Stars. Everyone knows our mom has sworn off sugar, so the thieves must have known there wouldn’t even be any stray Reese’s Pieces at our house under normal circumstances.
Cathy said the thieves must have spied on us as we made the rounds in the neighborhood and knew just where to come to steal it.
However, on Thanksgiving, we received reliable information from our cousin Jeremy (he’s fifteen and really tall) that some of the missing chocolate from our Halloween candy had been stashed in a secret cupboard on our premises. Probably the robbers couldn’t carry it all because there was so much chocolate, it took both Cathy and me to carry it home in the first place.
When Cathy counted what was left, it was clear the thieves had made off with more than half of it. We feared they would come back for the rest of it.
Now, I know I have a certain responsibility for how things turned out, as I am technically older. Mom is always telling us how sisters should be loyal to each other as they grow and venture into new territory.
The cupboard over the top of the refrigerator was definitely uncharted territory.
When Cathy told me about her plan to rescue the stolen chocolate, I felt she needed a safety net. Or at least someone to hold the chair while she climbed on top of the fridge.
We were surprised to discover her plan had a fatal flaw, although I should have expected it. After all, she’s only in third grade, so engineering is not her strong point. Although she’s amazing at drawing horses, much better than I am and I’m a year older. But I wasn’t consulted in the planning stage, or I would have suggested approaching the cupboard from the side via the counter instead of the front from a chair. All she asked me to do was to hold the chair, which I did until I had to drop it to catch the refrigerator.
I accidentally dropped that too.
You see, the door swung open, and she was hanging on it but managed to jump clear, and you know the rest.
Did you know that when your refrigerator falls on the door, more food falls out of it when you go to lift it back up? This is because the doors don’t latch too well.
So Santa, even though it wasn’t my idea to tip over the fridge, I did try to clean up the mess before Mom got back from the store. It’s just amazing how far pickles and olives can travel when they’re mixed with orange juice and moldy brussels sprouts. I didn’t realize they had rolled all the way to the back door. I felt terrible that mom slipped and dropped a gallon of milk.
And please don’t be too hard on Cathy. She was only trying to rescue the stolen chocolates.
Jennifer Martin, Cathy’s sister
Dear Santa, It was my Sister’s Fault © 2016 Connie J. Jasperson, All Rights Reserved