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Well, I got a smidgen of Christmas spirit yesterday. I was reading my sister’s Facebook page and she wrote that she was getting a smidgen of it too followed by these words “bow chickya bow wow” because nothing says Christmas like a vague pornographic music reference. That’s why she is the sister and we get along so fabulously.

This is a Christmas Elf on the Shelf sighted in Hoots. Obviously, it is not on a shelf.

Yesterday, someone gave me a deer. Now you may be saying, why would someone give you a deer? I don’t know but I thought it was nice. All I do know is that it was an adventure of one of the oddest varieties. I didn’t know I liked venison until a couple of years ago but I do. So a very nice man showed up and loaded a deer into the back of the pick-up that he had harvested early yesterday morning. Deer run wild here in Hoots.

Yes. A deer into the back of the pick up was what I had. Now in Hoots, that is not as weird as you would think it might be but it was a bit odd nonetheless for me. So, I’m driving this deer around doing everything physically possible to actually not look at the deer as I took it to a processing place. When I finally found one that was open, let’s just say that the movie Saw looked like a romantic comedy.

The two young men that helped unload the deer were worried about me seeing a mess of gross. I wasn’t that disgusted, quite frankly, because I’ve seen worse but I’m not going to say it was a joyous event either.

Young Man With Hat: “Ma’am, I hope this isn’t too messed up for you?”

Me: “Umm, no, I’m fine.”

Other Young Man Without A Hat: “It can’t get pretty skunky in here.”

Me: “No, seriously, it’s fine. What do I need to do?”

Young Man With Hat: “Do you have a kill tag?”

Me: “I think it’s on the deer.” (I had been told that I had to have this so I was brimming with my new-found information on the hunting subculture.)

Other Young Man Without A Hat: (laughing) You’re sort of green, Ma’am.”

Me: I WILL CUT YOU!” No, I didn’t say that. These kids calling me ma’am were yanking my chain and I think they secretly wanted me to be grossed out, and I did want this to end as soon as possible. I filled out some paperwork and high-tailed it out of there. Needless to say, I guess we are having venison for New Year’s Day.

My car decided to die on Friday (it’s been that sort of year) and so I’m sharing a ride with Squirrelly until it gets back from the car doctor. I was waiting on her at the local watering hole later to finish up the paper and saw Dirk Diggler, where we ba-humbugged it up for a bit and then I saw a very drunk man who wouldn’t leave me alone. At this point, after my deer drama, I was having none of it. Drunk dude got in my space and I, with very ill-humor, told him to sit his butt down and quit messing with me.

Drunk Dude: “Whaaaa …?”

Me: “SIT DOWN!”

There has only been about three times in my life that I’ve ever been listened to. This was one of them.

I’d been called ma’am all day, I hauled around a dead deer that was freaking me out and I still haven’t had a damn sausage ball, so I was in absolutely no mood to deal with an inebriated dude who was huggy.  He planted his hiney down although he started talking me to death, however, he wasn’t touching me which was my ultimate goal. I think I grimaced.

No, I’m pretty sure I grimaced.

Being that I’m 12-years-old, I texted Diggler who was sitting right beside me with one simple message: “Grrr.” He just nodded.

My Christmas tales don’t have the same impact as something written by Charles Dickens, I assure you.

Later on, talking to some buddies, I realized that I really like my friends, that Christmas lights are kinda pretty and then my sister always makes me happy at Christmas because she always has more of the spirit than I do, which kind of puts me in the mood.

I mean who isn’t charmed by saying Merry Christmas followed by “bow chickya bow wow.”

No, seriously.