Page 15 of Oh Holy Knight

I flash her a grin.

Please don’t hit me with a frying pan.

She opens her mouth to reprimand me, but nothing comes out. She tries again, this time pointing a finger too, but she still can’t find her voice.

Praise Jesus for small favors.

Then she spins around and faces my father.

“Christmas is canceled!”

She couldn’t cancel it last week when the airlines were having a sale? It doesn’t matter, I’m going to Costa Rica! Fa-la-la-la and a Ho, Ho, Ho!

“Now, now, no one is canceling Christmas, Lady. We knew we were going to be in a mess while we put the extension on—”

“Al, this isn’t a mess, this is Hell! I told you we should’ve hired real contractors.”

“Hey! I am a real contractor,” I argue.

“Shut up, you!” Dad barks before focusing on his wife. “I promise you everything will be back in order before Christmas. We’ll get a new chandelier and whatever else you want.”

“I want my ceiling fixed and this goddamn cabinet out of the kitchen! We can’t even get to the freezer to put the lobsters away.”

“Don’t worry, Enzo’s going to go grab some ice and we’ll put the lobsters in the bathtub until they’re finished with the floors.”

Hold the phone.

He wants me to do what?

“I’m sorry. Did you just ask me to fill your bathtub with ice for the lobsters we’re gonna eat in two weeks?”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

I roll my eyes.

“Fine, but does this mean Christmas isn’t canceled?”

“You are not going to Costa Rica! Get it out of your head. We’ll gift wrap a whore and stick her under the tree—make you feel like you’re there. Now go fix the hole in the fucking ceiling!”

Like I said, I fucking hate Christmas.

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