An Old-Fashioned Christmas (3 page)

BOOK: An Old-Fashioned Christmas
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I
t’s not really whoring if you do it just for presents!

W
ith the mantle lavishly festooned and the Yule bulb burning in the fireplace, hell, it could have been the little house on the prairie. Of course, it was really Aunt Helen’s town house in Jersey City.

F
or heaven’s sake, honey, just go up with Santa and sit on his lap. He’s not going to eat you.
At least, I don’t
think
he’s going to eat you.

I
t’s the hootch what keeps him jolly.

O
kay, Santa. We admit the beard is real… but what do you mean “the drapes match the carpet”?

L
etter from home, Private. From your wife. Says don’t worry about anything because your brother came over and helped trim her tree. Says he trimmed it real nice. Well, Merry Christmas, Private.

N
obody was gonna sleep in heavenly peace as long as “Tiny Itzhak” was sawing away on that fiddle.

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