Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Speedooooooooooooooo!


It's July.
Time for a story about Christmas.
Because.
And in keeping with what has become a week of stories about my Husby, my favourite . . .

In the Tolley household, Christmas . . . the actual ‘business portion’ which includes frantic tearing of colourful papers and scrabbling through mounds of discarded wrapping, was an event on hold.
Until the father of the house finally succumbed to the pleadings of his numerous children and crawled out of bed.
Once he hit the front room, it was every man for himself.
Or every woman . . . or child . . .
You get the picture.
To facilitate the introduction of said father to the ‘action room’, the children, over the years, had graduated from begging to more . . . proactive methods.
As their size and strength increased, they finally achieved the impossible.
Plucking their sire from his warm downy and carrying him, bodily, to his place of honour.
In an attempt to thwart their . . . growing . . . expertise, their father began to incorporate thought into the proceedings.
He resorted to sneakiness.
With varying degrees of success.
Allow me to illustrate . . .
Christmas, 2001, began like many others.
Tiny noises in the bowels of the house which told us that the natives were stirring.
And that time for any needed preparation was short.
Grant leaped from the bed and, under cover of darkness, began to shed his pyjamas.
Not unusual.
However, considering that our children would soon be bounding up the stairs demanding to open presents . . . Well . . . okay, unusual.
Sleepily, I noted the sound of fabric sliding over flesh.
He was pulling something else on.
Then, he crawled back into the bed and snuggled close.
Suspicious, I asked him what he was wearing and he chuckled.
“Not much,” he said.
Then the pounding started. “Mom, Dad! Time to open presents!”
“Okay,” he called, cheerfully.
Another sign that all was not as it should be.
The door swung open.
Slowly.
Several suspicious noses poked into the room, the light from the hallway throwing their shadows across the bed. Remember, these children had been exposed to many different devices in an attempt to discourage them from their desired goal.
Duct tape, catapults, duct tape, air horns, chains with padlocks, duct tape, yards of medical gauze, mustard, duct tape.
Okay, I admit it. He likes duct tape.
Back to my story . . .
The group stayed huddled for a moment, afraid to pierce the unknown blackness that pervaded our room.
We remained still.
Finally one brave soul reached for the switch, flooding the scene with light.
I blinked sleepily at them.
They moved slowly forward, still tightly packed.
A group makes a harder target.
Okay the reasoning needs a bit of work, but there is safety in numbers.
They approached the bed.
Still cautious.
Still peering anxiously into the shadows and flinching at every sound.
Finally, they reached their father.
Silence.
Grant’s eyes were closed, a small, blissful smile creasing his face.
Not a good sign.
One of the older boys grabbed the covers, then paused, gaining courage.
The silence stretched.
He threw them back.
And disclosed his portly father clad in a ‘speedo’.
I am not making this up.
It was a bright blue one.
Oh, and a bow-tie. Red. With sequins.
Now I would like to take this opportunity to state that the ‘speedo’ swimsuit was created with speed in mind, hence the name. Comfort is secondary, and looks a far distant third.
Certainly they look . . . ummm . . . delicious on a trim, incredibly fit man.
On a middle aged, fairly Santa-esque male?
Not as good.
But certainly effective.
The kids scattered.
Screaming.
We could hear one of them moaning in the hall. “I don’t want to open presents, do you want to open presents?”
Another, “I can’t un-see it! I can’t un-see it!”
Still another, “Presents? What are those? I’m going back to bed!”
My husband chuckled. “I should have thought of this years ago!” he said.
Mission accomplished.
Okay, you'll have to use your imagination regarding  clothing.
This is the best I can do.

20 comments:

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    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    2. Brings a whole new meaning to the words, 'unwrapping for Christmas'.

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  2. Replies
    1. Thank you, Julia! Something I will never forget!

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  3. I've heard of a lot of ways to thwart the crazed mobs of kids attempting to get the parents out of bed for Santa's part of the day but this one takes the grand prize as well as second, third and fourth. I can clearly visualize the kids shocked looks upon finding their father clad in something other than PJs. I hope they didn't need counselling...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Counselling probably would have been a good idea, now that I think about it! Unwrapping for Christmas has taken on a whole new meaning!

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  4. It really can't be unseen! *moans*

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    Replies
    1. I had nothing to do with it!!! :) Okay, yes, I'm married to him. But that's all!

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  5. You are so funny. I love reading your blog. Good times at your house.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, E! Unforgettable times, at least!

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  6. "I can't unsee it!"

    Hahaha love it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's more effective with the fingers clawing, but this is almost as good! :)

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  7. Diane, my Internet connection is slow as molasses but my goodness am I glad I persisted in loading this post! I am howling! My mother even asked what was causing me so much mirth! Grant is my hero! And here I thought there was absolutely no justification for any man, thin or "portly" to don a Speedo! I stand corrected. I think this post has definitely made your hall of fame! I loved it! The suspense building up to Grant's unveiling was epic! Big hugs! :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much! It's definitely one of my favourites. Can't say the same for my kids though . . . :)

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  8. The "I can't unsee it!" part is my favorite - thanks for sharing this hilarious story with us : )
    Blessings,
    Ann

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Dr. Ann! Our kids still moan about it!

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  9. You husby is incredibly funny and brave... I think...LOL

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm afraid the jury's still out on the whole 'brave' issue! :) And the 'funny' one as well!

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  10. That is so funny! I remember walking in and catching my dad in his underwear once and I was traumatized as I'm sure they were. The things our parents do to us.

    ReplyDelete

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