Just a quick little something I put together for the holidays. Hope you enjoy it.

One of my favorite songs when I was a kid was that silly one about a kid wanting his two front teeth for Christmas. But then again, I was that kid missing his two front teeth. And no, Santa Clause didn’t give them back for Christmas and I spent the next few months looking like a boxer who went up against Muhammed Ali without wearing his mouth guard.

Yeah, I know. What does a two year old know about Muhammed Ali? Doesn’t matter, just shut up and read the damn story.

Twenty five years later I’m married to a woman built like the famed brick shit house. The problem is, she actually is built like a fucking brick shit house! She wasn’t always this way. When we met she had a nice body, not great, but nice none the less. Her hair was a wavy brown and her eyes were just a shade lighter in color. All in all, not a bad package.

She had a nice sense of humor and got along well with my friends. We went through the typical dating scene and after about nine months together we decided to get married. What little money we had was spent on an island for our honeymoon.

It was after our return did things start to change, but I didn’t notice it at the time. Looking back at it now I realized I was hooked by a pro. No, not a whore of the traditional sense but the type that our mothers warned us about.

They dress up nice, treat us with respect and love us as much as we want. That’s them putting the bait on the hook, reeling us in and marriage is yanking the rod setting the hook. We’re now caught, married and miserable because they’ve soon changed into something so hideous and dark, light or life can’t escape from it.

So here I am sitting in my living room sipping warm apple cider, with cinnamon whiskey of course, listening to that old Christmas song about the kid and his missing two front teeth. A couple radio stations in the area switches to all Christmas music for the holidays and one played it from the archives and it got me thinking.

What do I want for Christmas?

On the surface that’s an easy one. I want my wife to be like the woman I fell in love with before we married. Life was good back then, but the likelihood of that happening was between slim and none so I hoped I could get out from my marriage with as little pain as possible.

I finished my drink and went after the Christmas tree the shrew ordered me to get before she went out with her friends earlier in the day. Supposedly there was some kind of after Black Friday sale going on and she wanted to make the most of it. For her, that means maxing out her credit card and sticking me with the bill.

Lucky for me there was a new tree lot not too far away. Not that it mattered anyways because I was on a fools errand. It doesn’t matter how perfect the tree is. She’ll find something wrong with it. “It’s too wide.” “It’s too tall.” “Why in the hell did you buy a blue spruce! I swear Charlie Fucking Brown picks a better looking tree!”

Oh, I remember last year’s rant well. That was a three finger glass night ... no damn cider either.

The snow was coming down hard and the temperature was falling just as bad. The roads were already slick but I knew my truck could handle it without any trouble so at least that wasn’t a worry. The weather must have scared people into staying home because I was the only guy looking for a tree at the lot. The sign to the lot was easy to see. It was brightly lit shining, “Santa’s Tree Lot.” Cute name.

The lot attendant seemed pleasant enough. He met me with a smile and a heart felt “Merry Christmas!” The guy even offered me a cup of hot chocolate. For a moment I had that old Christmas feeling back. You know the one when you’re a kid and you wake up early to go see what Santa put under the tree. How I missed those days.

I thanked him for his kindness but declined his offer and went back to my task. I walked around the lot for a good fifteen minutes examining every tree for any deficiency that the wife could exploit just to make my night miserable.

I must have been lost in thought because I was startled by the attendant asking me if I needed any help. It wasn’t until then that I realized the guy was pretty short. I don’t mean shorter than me, I mean short. I’m not a tall guy by any means but this fella was a good twelve or more inches shorter than me.

I told him of my predicament of needing the perfect tree for an imperfect wife and would appreciate his help in pointing me in the right direction.

“I know what you mean. My wife and I have been married for a hundred and fifty years and there are days I can’t do anything right.”

The cold and snow must be messing with my ears. He must mean it feels like he’s been married a hundred and fifty years. I hear ya brother!

He told me to follow him and we proceeded to walk toward the back of the lot. It was a bit of a maze to get there but we turned a corner and there in all it’s glory was THE PERFECT TREE.

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Shape, size, dimension and needle placement were simply perfect. For a tree like this I knew it had to be expensive so I braced myself for sticker shock.

“All our trees cost the same. You give me twenty-five dollars and I’ll help you load it up.”

“Really! It’s worth much more than that. I feel like I’m stealing from you.”

“Honestly, it’s just the twenty-five bucks and you get a Christmas wish for buying from us. Come on, let’s load this puppy up.”

It was then I heard a weird sound like an animal snorting. Snapping my head toward the sound and there in a small fenced in area were reindeer! I looked at the guy and he just gave me a small smile and shrugged his shoulders.

“What did you expect? This is Santa’s Tree Lot. Besides, the kids love it.”

What could I do? I chuckled to the innocence of it all. I looked at the guy, “Now that’s great marketing.”

Seemed like it was my lucky night. While we were loading it up I swear I heard the guy humming ‘Santa Clause is Coming to Town.’ We got it in the truck bed and cinched it down. I offered my hand and said, “I’m sorry to keep you here in such bad weather. Can I give you a ride home? I’d hate for you to have trouble getting home because of me.”

He gave me a big smile, “That’s very kind of you, but no. I’m covered. What do you think the reindeer are for?” His grip tightened up a bit, “Christmas wishes do come true so don’t forget to make yours.”

That threw me back a little but it was easy to see he meant well so I smiled and nodded back at him and hopped in my truck for the ride home. Just before I closed my door I thought I heard bells jingling. I definitely spent too much time in the cold.

Of course I made it home before my wife. Not that it mattered, she wouldn’t have helped me drag the tree in and set it up anyway. After I got the tree inside and set in the tree stand, I cleaned up the mess I dragged in with me and went to work.

It took a couple hours to get the lights strung and all the ornaments hung but the tree was definitely the best one I’ve ever had. All I had to do now was wait for the wife to come home and start her rant.

I barely had a new drink poured when I heard the garage door opening. Couldn’t I catch a break and the bad weather kept her from coming home? Guess it was time to gird my loins!

She walked in carrying a couple bags and barked at me like a dog at the end of their leash, “Just don’t stand there, go get my other bags!”

I looked at her for a second, slammed the drink down my throat enjoying the burn. Without a word I walked past her and retrieved the bags from the front passenger seat, entire back seat and the trunk. It took three trips to get them all and I deposited them none too gently on the bedroom floor.

I didn’t see her the whole time I was dragging the shit from her car. Odd, I’d figure she’d be nagging me the whole time telling me I wasn’t moving fast enough or I was doing it all wrong. How could you carry a bag wrong? I don’t know but she’d find a way.

Deciding it was time for another drink, I hit the bar. I was in two swallows and decided to tempt fate and go find the little woman. Little. I even crack myself up sometimes.

She was in the front room sitting in her chair staring at the Christmas tree. “Something wrong, dear?” No reply. “Well? You got a problem with this year’s tree like you did last year?” Still nothing.

“Well, whether you like it or not, I don’t care. It’s a great tree and I did a damn good job decorating it. Don’t even think about complaining because I’ve had enough of your shit so if you do to me what you did last year, look for another place to live.” Taking another sip of my drink I remembered I still had a Christmas wish to make.

“Rachel, how I wish you were the woman I married and not the shrew you are now.” I didn’t even stay around for a reply. It was bed time and I knew I would need to getup early to get to work because of the weather.

The alarm woke me up just like any other work day but this time I felt rested. I was surprised to see my wife never came to bed last night. No wonder I slept so well. Wanting to keep that pleasant feeling going, I moved about the house as quietly as possible. Figuring she was on the couch in the living room, I avoided it like the plague. Luckily I was successful and made it out of the house without having to deal with her.

The snow quit some time during the night but it was still a white knuckle drive even with my four wheel drive. I swear the plow drivers of ODOT (that’s Ohio Dept. Of Transportation for you non Buckeye’s out there) don’t know how to do their job for the morning commuters.

My day went way to fast because before I knew it, it was time to go home. As I got closer to home the apprehension grew but so did my determination to put Rachel in her place. I was done being her fucking door mat.

At least ODOT had the roads cleared for the trip home. I guessed they got out of bed around noon.

It was quiet when I walked in the house but something very strange was going on. Dinner? My wife cooked dinner? I had to look around to make sure I was in the right house. Sure enough, it was my house. Right about then Rachel walked in looking very timid and unsure of herself. She stuttered a few times but finally got out, “I made dinner. I hope you like it. It will be just a few minutes.”

I reached up and put my finger on my carotid artery. Yep, not dead but I think I entered a Twilight Zone episode so I had better tread lightly.

I washed my hands and took my place at the table waiting for ... whatever it was that was happening. Rachel carried in several dishes and I had to admit it did smell good. At one time she actually was a good cook. But over the years her cooking went away along with her pleasant demeanor.

Rachel sat down in her old spot still looking unsure. The first ten minutes neither of us spoke. I still wasn’t sure what was happening so I played it safe and kept quiet. At one point I wondered of she poisoned my food so I sorta waited for her to take the first bite.

Rachel’s hands were literally shaking as she brought her drink up to her lips so I guess it was time for her to finally let me know what was happening. “I bet you weren’t expecting this.”

That was a massive understatement. “No, I wasn’t.”

She continued, “I’ve been a real bitch to you haven’t I?” She didn’t wait for a response. “You don’t have to say anything because we both know it’s true. I have no excuse and even if I did, it would be nothing but bullshit. I wish I knew why I’ve treated you so bad but I can’t. At this point I won’t even try a guess.”

Rachel stopped speaking probably gauging my reaction to what she just said. I’m sure she was worried about some type of explosion coming from me but it wasn’t necessary.

“So, what brought on this revelation? I’m sure it has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re wrong John. It has everything to do with you. I admit, I was ready to jump you about the tree and for no good reason. I know it was just to be nasty again. But when I looked at it I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. It’s just ... I don’t know how to say it except to say it’s perfect. Everything about it is perfect.

I was just sitting there looking at it thinking it reminded me of every pleasant Christmas memory I’ve ever had. Then you came in and said about me giving you a hard time about last year’s tree and needing to find a new place to live if I did it again. It hit me like a ton of bricks just how bad I’ve been and that we may never have another Christmas together. There’s no explanation why but I feel so ashamed of how I’ve treated you.”

We both sat quietly for a minute. Her waiting to see how I’d react to her new found revelation and me trying to figure out if she truly understood the depth of her mistreatment of me.

“Rachel, you have been a shitty wife for so long I’ve pretty much written this marriage off. You’ve definitely reached my limits when it comes to the abuse I’ll accept from you.

That being said, It beats the shit out of me why, but I am under the impression you do realize you’ve done me wrong. The big questions is, what are you going to do about it? I’m willing to give you the chance to figure out what you want. If after some thought you realize you do not love me anymore and want to divorce, I’ll gladly give it to you. I will however not be your whipping boy any longer. One snide remark, one eye roll, or anything that is not respectful, I’ll roll your fat ass out of this house!”

Yes, the fat ass remark was mean spirited and I did do it to purposely hurt her, but too fucking bad. I was venting and even though her eyes registered some serious hurt, I felt better. It doesn’t even compare to what she has said to me the last couple years.

“John, it’s obvious I’ve done serious harm to our marriage or you wouldn’t have attacked me like you did. I just hope it’s not permanent.

I don’t know what it is but there’s something special about that tree. There’s a purity with it, something almost magical. It opened my eyes to what I could lose if I don’t change and try to undo the damage I’ve caused.”

As I listened to her I made sure her eyes spoke with the same truth as her words. Oddly, they did. Maybe she did see the light, as they say. But there was still one big hurdle that needed answered. “OK Rachel. I believe you may have had an eye opening experience, but until you know the reason why you’ve treated me so poorly I don’t see how you’re not going to revert back.”

“I’ve had the same thought, John. I talked to my mother and told her what happened yesterday.”

Oh yes. The monster-in-law, Louise the Louse! Behind the plastic surgeon built facial features that has launched three divorce settlements (all due to her cheating) is a heart that is black as coal. The only positive attribute Rachel’s mother has is when she dies, she’ll give Satan a fucking migraine from all her complaining.

I thought Rachel kept her contact with her mother to a minimum because she told me many times she hated her mother.

As you have already guessed, the bitch doesn’t like me. Never has never will. I’m not good enough for her daughter, I don’t make enough money, not tall enough, not sophisticated enough and don’t come from a “good” family. Hell, The Louse came from a blue collar family just like me.

“Mom told me I shouldn’t ease up on you and that if I did I’d be giving up any power I’d already gained. She said all you wanted to do was to control me and take away my independence.” Rachel tears were wreaking havoc to her mascara by this point causing her to look like a drowned raccoon.

“Let me guess. When you told me you rarely talked to your mother, that was a lie? And this whole damn time you’ve been taking motherly tips from a three time loser knowing sooner or later it would come back and bite you square on the ass, just like her? Am I right?”

By now she was just plain crying giving me little nods of her head.

“Wonderful Rachel. Just wonderful. Is there anything else I should know?”

She was still crying but was able to speak clearly enough, “No. I swear it. I’ve been so damn stupid to listen to her and it may have cost me my marriage.”

“Well, I guess you know why you’ve treated me like shit now don’t we? For someone who said she hated her mother for the way she treated your dad, God rest his soul, you’ve turned out just like her. Well, what was your reaction to her words of wisdom from last night?”

This time she got a little smile on her face. “I told the bitch to never contact me again and that if I can repair the damage to my marriage I’ll make sure she never comes near me and any children we may have.”

When she seen the expression on my face she jumped right in, “That is if you can get passed my stupidity and we stay married.”

Nice course correction. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’ve got some serious damage control to do first. Your remorse seems genuine and I’m willing to give you the chance to make up for your idiocy, but you’ve got to convince me your heart has changed.”

“I swear I’ll show you I can be the person I was, the woman you married and not the shrew I was.” Wonder where I heard those words before?

Serious conversation was over and I was tired from the stress. I took my shower and dressed in pajamas even though it was too early to go to bed. Thinking it would be nice to have a hot chocolate and relax for a while I headed down stairs. Low and behold, there was Rachel making hot chocolate the old fashion way, cooking it on the stove from her grandmother’s recipe. She hasn’t done this for years.