A Yule Dad Cometh

Continued from Merry Christmas-Iceland Style.  I'd provide a link, but that's too much work.  If you really want to know what's going on, please select "Older Posts"  below.

In the running for the role of Yule Lads.
Until the government of Iceland realized they were all dead.

    Our daughter was snoring away-no doubt dreaming of what kind of “loot” she’d get from the little troll that night (and I don’t mean me).  A precocious fourth-grader, she made sure to tell us at dinner that she’d been a great girl that year.  Hopefully, Stekkjarstaur would be able to fit a puppy in her sneaker.

Type II Diabetes-Starring Eddie Murphy

    One child down, I told my wife I’d place a “Family Size” Snickers (if the family was the Klumps) in my son’s shoe.

    The base’s apartments weren’t like the typical ones back in America.  Everything was so small, I didn’t have room to walk around his bed.  This being the case, I had to stretch clear across where he slept just to reach the windowsill.          

    As I neared his shoe, I heard a voice from out of the darkness, “That’s okay, Dad.  You can turn on the light if you can’t see.”

    Busted, I quickly dropped the candy into his shoe and departed without a word.

    The next morning at breakfast, I asked my eleven year old about the night before.

    “Oh, that,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I’m too old for that stuff anymore.  I’ll tell you what, just save yourself the trouble and give me my present before I go to bed.”

    Mildly depressed that my little boy was growing up, I said nothing as he headed off to school.

    Before he walked through the door, he called over his shoulder, “Oh, hey, I left something for you and Mom on your nightstand.  See you this afternoon.”

    Shaking off my gloominess, I shuffled into my dollhouse bedroom and saw a piece of paper next to the alarm clock.  It was my son’s Christmas list.

What the frik is an iPod Docking Station?
Maybe I should just give the Penwasser kid a potato.

    

    Starting off with “Dear Santa,” it went on to list, by color, size, and memory storage, everything he wanted to see under the tree come Christmas morning.

    

At the bottom, he closed with, “Oh, yeah, just in case, Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad.”

    

Or, as they say in Iceland, “Gleδileg Jól.”