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A Blair Family Christmas

Updated on January 26, 2013
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Once upon a time a writer was feeling very warm due to a scalding hot Texas summer, so he decided to write a story about a joyous time filled with lots and lots of snow. This wasn’t the normal type of icy accident-causing death trap that Texas usually gets. This was heavenly, white, soft and flaky snow. It was a delightful thirteen degrees fahrenheit out in the suburbs of Addison. Our story begins in the cozy den of Dr. Blair’s two-bedroom house. It wasn’t much, but he lived there alone with his faithful cat, Mystery, who was busy attacking the ornaments on the Christmas tree. Dr. Blair’s loving sister, Naomi, and her two sons were there visiting the good doctor as he didn’t have anyone else to celebrate with this holiday season. The whole family was enjoying non-alcoholic eggnog and a rousing game of trivia, and this would all seem like a perfect holiday gathering if not for what’s about to happen in a minute.

Suddenly there was a heavy rapping on the front door.

“Merry Christmas! Open up!” a gravely old voice shouted out from behind the door. Dr. Blair recognized that voice as belonging to a man from the university; a man he despised so very very much. It was Dr. Blackerby, his nemesis...Maybe ‘nemesis’ is not the right word here. He never smoked nor drank. He worked part-time as a crossing guard. He never seemed to do anything that was hurtful to anyone no matter how small. It was just...the talking. Every day at the university Dr. Blackerby would stop Dr. Blair in the hallways, in the cafeteria, and even his office; and just talk about nothing at all. Everything reminded him of a story, which he had to tell right at that moment and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. No matter the circumstance Dr. Blackerby always had a smile on his face as he kept going on. Dr. Blackerby was most likely not a bad person. He was gruff, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“Open up or I’m gonna break the door down!” the voice shouted.

Okay, maybe he would hurt a fly.

Dr. Blair cowered in the corner of the den with his family. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, as his heart thumped wildly in his chest. His pounding heart became louder and louder, as the mad fool knocked more and more fiercely. Was this a lion at the door, or just a crazy old man?

“I know you’re in there!” Dr. Blackerby growled. What manner of terribly humorous story did he have to tell this time? How important is such a quirky tale that it would drive a man to invade someone’s home in the middle of the holiday break? Or did Dr. Blackerby have something more insidious in mind? Dr. Blair didn’t want to find out. Tyler, his youngest cousin, only a boy of four, started to cry. Dr. Blair did everything he could to quiet the child, but it was no use. If Dr. Blackerby didn’t know the house was inhabited before, he certainly knew it now.

The pounding stopped and for a brief moment the house was silent. Did the mad doctor give up? What sort of nefarious scheme was he planning? Dr. Blair soon found out as the blazen psychopath began to remove the bolts from the door hinges, which is quite a feat as the front door hinges for a residential home are located on the inside. No one could figure out how Dr. Blackerby was doing this from outside, however before they could consider the possibility of telekinesis the last bolt hit the floor and the door fell face first into the foyer. Now if Dr. Blair wasn’t so afraid of being a bad host he would tell the big balding buffoon to take a hike.

“Ben, aren’t you going to say something?” Naomi whispered to her brother.

“Oh right,” Dr. Blair whispered then turned to Dr. Blackerby. “Good evening!”

Naomi gave Dr. Blair a good punch in the shoulder.

Dr. Blackerby was bundled up for an arctic vacation, and carried a large brown sack over his shoulder. He pushed his glasses up on his stubby wrinkled nose, and cleared his throat. He wasted no time in his duties as he stepped over the down door and into the den.

“Ben, I’m gonna be real quick here, cause I got about ten other houses to do tonight,” Dr. Blackerby blurted out. Dr. Blair didn’t want to know what horrible fate the possibly, but not probably cannibalistic creature had in store for the his kind and loving family. He just hoped the venomous monster would finish his wanton acts of bloodlust quickly and painlessly. The vile fiend plopped his sack of terrible things onto the den floor, reached in and pulled out...four wrapped presents. With the utmost care of a fumbling old man he placed the presents under the tree.

“Well, I gotta go,” Dr. Blackerby said as he slung the sack back over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, everybody!”

And with that he trotted out the door and into the freezing night.

Now I’m not about to say what sort of nasty surprises were contained in those four festive bow-wrapped boxes, but I’m pretty sure they were toys for little boys. Dr. Blackerby may have no tact whatsoever, but he’s not a bad person.

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