The Best of Christmas Sitcoms
Here are my top 10: (in no particular order)
All 3 M*A*S*H Christmas episodes they made:
Death Takes a Holiday
The Bob Newhart Show:
His Busiest Time
I'm Dreaming of a...
Tips for Buying a Fresh Tree
I will do that fresh cut of the trunk.....that was my problem last Christmas.....the tree lost so many needles....even tho it was fresh....the problem was....since I didnīt cut the trunk....the tree...
I forget who sent this to me, but it's a favorite to read every year.
My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years but hadn't been blessed with a baby. I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if he would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide.
God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God blessed us with another son. The following year, He blessed us with yet another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter.
My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty. We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old. I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it.
As a minister once told me, "If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella."
I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs.
I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me with four children and I didn't want to disappoint Him. I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks. I tried to be understanding... when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs.When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess.
In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children.
While I couldn't keep my promise to be a perfect mother - I didn't even come close...I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God. I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told
my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus, too. Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his "last wife."
My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant. My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine. My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." But he was nervous and said, "The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes."
My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not 'wrinkled clothes,' silly. That's dirty, rotten clothes."
A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing. I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, "Mama-mama." Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived. My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur."
The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation. "I've never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one," laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes. "For the rest of my life, I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense and fur."
"My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing, " I said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin.
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Christmas with Louise
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.
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