Marley’s time with Scrooge is very limited. In the space of a few pages, Marley scares the crap out of Scrooge, tells him he’s a cheap bastard, and warns him about the upcoming visits of the Ghosts of Christmas. Marley doesn’t explain why his visit must be so short. I always assumed he had some important afterlife meeting to attend, maybe a twelve-step program for residents of Hell. You know, Marley standing up and saying, “Hi, my name is Marley, and I’m a damned soul.”
Tomorrow, according to the Mayan calendar, the world is coming to an end. Thus, like Marley, my blogging time is short. You may have noticed that I haven’t been writing a second post for the last couple of days. Christmas preparations have taken priority. I had to get a picture of my kids in their Christmas outfits for our Christmas cards. Then, I had to go online and order some prints from Walgreens. The hardest part of the whole process was getting my son to stand next to his sister without crying. It was a half-hour battle.
The problem was that my daughter and son had a snow day from school. They had been together for almost twelve hours straight. That’s almost 540 years in big-sister/little-brother time. They were ready to kill each other, so I have many photos of my son pouting, stomping, and looking like he’s ready to have a bowel movement. And they’ve already canceled school for tomorrow. That means another 540 years of forced sibling interaction. My wife is hoping they both sleep until noon tomorrow.
However, this point may be moot. Remember, the world is coming to an end. So, on the eve of the Mayan Apocalypse, I want to give thanks for my son and daughter; they made my final night a living hell. I want to give thanks for my wife; she didn’t kill our kids on their final day.
Saint Marty is a blessed man. Now he needs to load his rifle and count his bottled waters.
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| My Christmas photo |
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