Silver Bells.

If you’ve been keeping up, I’ve been posting things about Christmas past for the past few weeks in preparation for Christmas yet-to-come. Last night, after watching “Polar Express” which happens to be one of my favorite Christmas movies (behind “Christmas Vacation” and “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause”, of course), I thought of a seriously funny story.

Way back when, I had a cat named Linus. He was an adorable little thing. He was super sweet and playful, and this happened to get him in trouble one night.

On our Christmas tree, we had a few bells. We put them at the bottom of the tree so Linus could play with them, but wouldn’t be tempted to climb into the tree to get to them (which proved to be pointless). It was cute during the day, because you could always tell where he was.

But it’s not cute in the middle of the night.

One night, my sister and I were sleeping and all of a sudden, the light in our room gets turned on. There stood my dad, looking really upset. I was so dazed, I had no idea what was going on. He never went upstairs when I was a kid because there really was no reason to; the only thing up there is my room. None of us said anything. Then my dad proceeded to hold up this bell, shake it a few times, all while he kept holding his stare.

I still couldn’t process what is happening.

Dad opened one of the drawers to my dresser that he was standing next to, threw the bell into it, and slammed it shut. It’s finally at this point that he started to laugh.

I was still not laughing. 

And I didn’t laugh until he turned off my light, marched out of my room and back down the stairs.

Once I understood what was going on (that Linus was playing with a bell in his room in the middle of the night), I thought is was hilarious.

I still think it’s hilarious. Which is why I can barely tell this story without crying from laughter.


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