Home > Fiction > The True Meaning of Christmas…aka Nap Day

The True Meaning of Christmas…aka Nap Day


            “Girl, why are you so tired?” She cocks her head to the side and perks her ears in anticipation of my answer.

            “Well, I’ve been working like a crazy person, and now that it’s Christmas, I finally get to sleep, so that’s what I’m doing, Dup.”

            “Oh, that makes sense.” She plops down beside me, resting her head on my chest. “What’s Christmas, and why does everyone keep wishing us a merry one?”

            “Well, there are a whole lot of people out there who believe this is the day their savior was born pretty much forever ago. And there are also a whole lot of people who celebrate the idea of Santa Claus, and then there are those who do both, which, as far as I can tell, is what most people do.”

            Seph comes creeping up from the foot of the bed and settles onto my abdomen. She nuzzles Dup briefly (she’s not as affectionate toward the dog anymore, since she’s no longer on Wellbutrin) and says, “Dog, Christmas is the day where the baby spends time in the barn with the donkeys and horses. It’s also the day where the fat man invades homes via the chimney.”

            “Invades homes? No!” Dup is alarmed. It is, after all, her job to protect us from home invaders.

            I stroke Duppy’s ears, but she won’t settle back down. Any trace of sleepiness is gone, and she looks toward the door suspiciously.

            “What does the fat man do once he gets in?” She whispers.

            “He steals biscuits and drinks all the milk,” Seph replies nonchalantly. She’s clearly enjoying the panic she’s causing.

            “THOSE ARE MY BISCUITS! HE CAN’T HAVE THEM!” She springs up as if to launch herself from the bed and destroy the invisible fat man, but I pull her back down before she can.

            “Duppy, for one thing, that’s a children’s fairy tale. His name is Santa, and if you’re good, he brings you presents. If you’re bad, he just brings you coal. But there’s no chimney for any person at all to enter our apartment. Your sister’s messing with you. There’s no need to freak out.”

            Sure enough, Seph begins to snicker. Dup growls, though not in a serious, I-mean-business manner, but I cover Seph with the blanket even so.

            “That’s not nice, Kitty,” Dup grumbles.

            “No, it’s not,” I add.

            “But, Girl, if you don’t go celebrate in barnyards, and you don’t let fat, biscuit-eating men into our home, what do you celebrate?” Just like that, she’s relaxed again, and she settles her head back onto my chest.

            “Family, friends…you two. You know, you’re a Christmas puppy, Thursday. You were Bear’s present three years ago, and little did I know at the time, you were the best gift to me, too.”

            “Oh…what about Persephone?”

            “She’s mostly a summer kitty, but she’s kind of a Christmas kitty, too, I suppose.”

            At the mention of her name, Seph emerges from under the quilt smiling smugly, though the look quickly vanishes when Dup says, “She’s kind of a lump of coal, huh?”

            Now I laugh. I laugh so hard, the cat springs off the bed and hides in the closet.

            “Oh, Sepher, come back! I love you, kitty!” I call.

            “YOU’RE a lump of coal,” she responds shrilly from the closet. “You’re both lumps of coal!”

            “Seph, please come back. Dup was only kidding.”

            “Yeah, Seph, I love you!” Dup adds.

            “Come on, you had your fun with Dup earlier, and now she’s had her fun with you. Besides, I have a secret to tell you about lumps of coal, but I can’t tell you unless you come here so the three of us can share the secret together.”

            She pokes her head out of the closet, rolls her eyes, and heeds my call. Cats are, after all, very curious creatures.

            She jumps back onto the bed, sits down on my chest, gives me a sour look, and asks, “What?”

            “Do you know what coal is made of?”

            “No. How would I know that?”

            “You have a point there, I suppose…. Coal is made of carbon chains. You know what else is made out of carbon chains?”

            “No.” She keeps scowling.

            “One of the most valuable things on Earth: diamonds. So maybe at first glance, people think you’re a lump of coal, but I know otherwise. You, Sepher, are my diamond.”

            “You’re my diamond, too,” Dup adds.

            Seph’s features soften, and she gives Dup a kiss on her muzzle. “And you, Dog, are my lump of coal.”

  1. December 25, 2011 at 11:39 pm

    This is too cute! I was laughing so hard. 🙂

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