pat-f
11-21-2007, 11:06 AM
As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty
hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all
he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they
say about Santa checking the list twice must be true
because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids'
stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung
sadly empty. One year I decided to make his dream come
true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an
inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at
Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.
If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go.
You'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour
saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're
kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it
to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a
standard, uncomplicated doll that could also
substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use
the car pool lane during rush hour. Finding what I
wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many
different models. The top of the line, according to
the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in
a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable
Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale.
To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old
bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law
was in on the plan and let me in during the wee
morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I
filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant
legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank
what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I
went home, and giggled for a couple of hours. The next
morning my brother called to say that Santa had been
to his house and left a present that had made him VERY
happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark,
start to walk away, then come back and bark some
more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her
panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her
when they came over for the traditional Christmas
dinner. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she
walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she
asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a
doll." "Who would play with something like that?"
Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but
kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?", Granny
continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice,
Gran," Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining
room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she
have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but
why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to
ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on
Granny, Hang on!" My grandfather, a delightful old man
with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, " Hey,
who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she
was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed
Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just
talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we
realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at
home. The dinner went well. We made the usual small
talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should
be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that
sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the
morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew
around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front
of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry
sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the
room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth
to mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over
his chair and wet his pants and Granny threw down her
napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the
car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and
remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a
thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's
collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from
a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct
tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went
on to star in several bachelor party movies. I
think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get
out of the house.
hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all
he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they
say about Santa checking the list twice must be true
because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids'
stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung
sadly empty. One year I decided to make his dream come
true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an
inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at
Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.
If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go.
You'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour
saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're
kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it
to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a
standard, uncomplicated doll that could also
substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use
the car pool lane during rush hour. Finding what I
wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many
different models. The top of the line, according to
the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in
a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable
Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale.
To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old
bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law
was in on the plan and let me in during the wee
morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I
filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant
legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank
what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I
went home, and giggled for a couple of hours. The next
morning my brother called to say that Santa had been
to his house and left a present that had made him VERY
happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark,
start to walk away, then come back and bark some
more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her
panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her
when they came over for the traditional Christmas
dinner. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she
walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she
asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a
doll." "Who would play with something like that?"
Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but
kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?", Granny
continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice,
Gran," Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining
room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she
have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but
why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to
ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on
Granny, Hang on!" My grandfather, a delightful old man
with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, " Hey,
who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she
was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed
Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just
talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we
realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at
home. The dinner went well. We made the usual small
talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should
be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that
sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the
morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew
around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front
of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry
sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the
room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth
to mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over
his chair and wet his pants and Granny threw down her
napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the
car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and
remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a
thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's
collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from
a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct
tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went
on to star in several bachelor party movies. I
think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get
out of the house.