T - 6 Days and Counting!

Remember that bit about being saintly? I'm not sure how long one has to be saintly to be canonized but I'm sure I'm close. I thought I'd call the Catholic priest at the church that Cowboy occasionally visits and ask him. To say he was frightened that I had called is an understatement. Not sure if he was scared I might want to join his flock and influence the other parishioners or if he thought he was having a conversation with someone who was not nearly as saintly as purported.

Tsk.

There was quite a bit of background noise while we were talking. Err... I was talking; he was giving his Rosary beads a pretty good workout... I was afraid he'd stroke out so I decided to google saints and canonization. Google had a lot of information but nothing on being saintly so long just prior to Christmas.

Then I had an epiphany! No, didn't call the Greek Orthodox priest - I called Ms.KeptWoman a.k.a. Lady Chatterly. She lives in my neighborhood and is "kept" by a very wealthy man who visits her monthly. He lives in Europe and comes here on business. I've seen him a few times; very debonair and silver-haired and obviously well-off. He's very generous to her and what they do behind closed doors is not anything she talks about. I have a fertile imagination. I can guess what they do.

Anyway, Lady Chatterly gets a LOT of presents ALL the time. So I invited her over for coffee and babka and asked her about saints and canonization. She assured me that canonization wasn't all it's cracked up to be. She says you get to be sought after for a day now and then and after a year or so, people forget to pray to you. Bummer!

She said it's better to be slightly naughty because that makes "Santa" give you far more attention and that the attention you get invariably leads to "stuff" and new leather boots and pretty lingerie and the latest best selling books and plenty of imported chocolates.

Ohhhh... I could live with that.

"What kind of naughty things do you suppose I should get into?" I asked.

"Just be yourself, Sar. I'm sure that will do it."

Hmmm... was that a dig... or was she being complimentary? Tsk. I might not give her that chestnut cheesecake for Christmas, after all.

So... thinking naughty might be the way to go... I just happened to hear the giant squid get out of bed in the wee hours. When he didn't come right back, I got up to investigate. There was a light on downstairs. Just as my feet reached the last step on the staircase and I was ready to sneak into the family room to see what he was up to...

"That better be one of the pups coming down the stairs and not an imp who should be in bed," the soft but firm voice announced.

Jeez!

"And if I catch you," his voice got just a little louder, "you'll be sleeping on your belly!"

Crumb! Who knew Santa could be so stern? I rushed back to bed and when he came upstairs, I feigned sleep.

"I know you're awake, Sar."

SWAT!

Mumble... groan... whine... complain...

The temperature has really dropped so the next morning the giant squid was in the backyard checking the heaters in the kennels. I knew that would take a while so I decided to check the downstairs closet in case Santa had made an early delivery. I was standing on a chair... reaching up to one of the top shelves... certain there was a huge box there I didn't remember seeing before.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Good God! The man has radar!

Before I could even think of a reason for being there... dusting the cobwebs, dear... rearranging stuff... thought I heard a noise...

I was over his shoulder and his grizzly paw was pounding away like a little drummer boy! How is it the man can laugh and spank and climb stairs at the same time? This is not my idea of multi-tasking and I told him so.

Oy! Bad idea.

It's one thing to get spanked for fun and another to get a firm swat just because the target was available as he was passing by. But to get spanked because His Holiness thinks I might be up to something naughty... even if I was? Double tsk!

"Do you know why I am spanking you, imp?"

Yes, it's because you're anal retentive.

"Because you're a baboon butthead!"

"Wrong answer."

SWAT!

Jeez!

"Poke your nose into places it has no business being and your tush is gonna be as red as Santa's suit."

"You're jumping to conclusions," I told him. "I needed to get something out of that closet."

"You're a terrible liar, Sar," the Neanderthal chuckled as he delivered another firm swat.

"Hey!" I protested. "I've been an absolute saint!"

"A what?"

Would you believe he had the nerve to laugh?

"That was really very rude of you," I said, rubbing my butt as he turned me over on his lap.

"Is this rude, too, baby?" he asked, his hands and mouth beginning to do very naughty things.

~ sigh ~

The band played on... "stuff" ensued and I still have to get into that closet to see what's in that big box.

~ Sar ~

6 days = 144 hours = 8,640 minutes = 518,000 seconds until Santa's sleigh lands on my roof, slides off because of black ice and the jolly ol fat man lands on his butt in my backyard where my two attack-trained Rottweilers will nose around in his giant bag to see if he brought them liver flavored biscuits.