Did we really need to carpool? I don’t think this fold-down third-row seat was really designed with a six-foot-two, adult human in mind. It’s cold outside, so I wore my heaviest of coats. Which is great for when I’m trying to nail that Tenor part of “Deck The Halls” but hell sitting back here in Tammy’s SUV with the heat blasting. OK, we’ve hit another neighborhood. Now for the 10-minute long pile out of the SUV.
I’m glad Tammy is the one ringing the doorbells. I don’t particularly feel like trying to convince people they need to stand in the cold and listen to us sing at them. Johnny is awfully off-key this year, and he smells like he bathed in Axe Body Spray. Should I admit I don’t know my part to “Good King Wenceslas” and I’m actually just pretending to sing along? No one caught it yet.
Back in the SUV. Are we going to eat later? I could go for a triple hash brown at the Waffle House when we are done. Coffee. Sweet, lovely coffee. OK. Who in this vehicle just said I was flat during “Jolly Old St. Nicholas?” It wasn’t me. I was on pitch and perfect! Johnny Axe Body is the one who was flat! I swear if people keep saying it was me I’ll kick them right in their pa-ra-pa-pum-pum.
Alright, another street, another hour goes by and getting closer to maybe going to Waffle House. I have to pee. I have to pee really bad. Can you ask to come in and use someone’s bathroom after you sang “O Holy Night” at them? Wait, this house has a giant, inflatable minion in the yard to one side. Maybe I can hide behind it and go. But what if I get caught? I’ll get arrested and wind up in the papers “Jaunty Jackass Pee-Pees Behind Minion, Destroying Christmas for All.”
Oh, this house has an absolutely lovely nativity scene in the yard! Wow, that’s really something. Looks homemade, not store bought. I wonder how long they’ve had it? Ah, I can tell they must have had this for well over 30 years, judging by the fact that up close you can tell the Baby Jesus is played by a cabbage patch doll. I’m not really knocking them for it, it’s a nice design. Last time I tried to woodwork anything I got a lung full of sawdust.
OK, last street we’ll be on tonight. I hope this ends soon so we can go eat, I’m starving. That’s funny, looks like the first group got here before us and is already caroling. They must be hungry too! Wait, the first group is pulling up behind us. Is this another group of carolers? Oh, my, it is! This won’t end well, this could break out into a turf war. I saw a caroler war once. It ended my marriage. Thoughts of Sheila still haunt me on a cold Winter’s night.
I don’t think the other group knows we’re here yet, they’re too far up the top of the street. This looks like a cul-de-sac, so there’s no place for us to duck out of the way. This may go down like the great Four Hills subdivision Caroler Battle of 1998. I was just a child then, but I remember seeing my uncle almost sever his vocal cords getting into a fight with a baritone. He spent all of Christmas day gargling with warm salt water.
Welp looks like one of the other carolers have spotted us, I can see them pointing and telling the others to all look. We’re getting closer and closer to meeting in the middle. We’re just three houses apart from one another. “Your high notes suck!” I can hear one of them yelling. This is the most wonderful time of the year, it’s no time to fight. We’re getting closer to one another, sizing each other up, “Your Dickensian outfits are trash!” I hear the leader of our group say. This isn’t good. This isn’t good. I just want to finish singing “Away in a Manger” and go get hash browns at Waffle House.
You know what? I’m gonna quietly back out of this fight and wait in the car. “Oh, my trick, tender, sprained buttock!” I will yell. I’ll limp back to the car, and watch these jerks make fools of themselves on a suburban street. They ask me to do this next year I’m gonna fake a cold. See you next week.