For the Man Who has Everything????
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 panty hose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly threadbare.
One year I decided to make his dream come true.
I put on sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love doll.
Of course, they don’t sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.
If you’ve never been in one of those stores, don’t go. You’ll only confuse yourself.
I was there almost three hours saying things like, “What does this do?” “You’re kidding me!” “Who owns that?” “Do you have their phone number?” (I’m sure there were many more questions, but who am I to say!)
Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. (You know, Barbie for grown-ups.)
I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance that could also substitute as a passenger in my car so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour.
I’m not sure what a complicated doll is. Perhaps one that is subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent for no reason at all. (That also describes a few ex-boyfriends.) Finding what I wanted was difficult.
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 National Geographic documentary. I figured the “extras” were a feature Jay could live without, so 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 cleverly left the front door key hidden under the mat. In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling panty hose 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. Then I let myself out, 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. He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.
I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie to set Rover straight.
We also 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.
It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma and and Grandpa would be there. (uh-oh!)
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. “What the heck is that?” she asked.
My brother quickly explained. “It’s a doll.” “Who would play with something like that?” Granny snapped.
I started thinking about an answer to that question but thought better of it and decided to keep my mouth shut.
“Where are her clothes?” Granny continued. I hadn’t seen any in the box, but I kept this information to myself.
“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?” (Does Barbie have teeth?) Again, I could have answered, but why would I?
My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said,” Hey, who’s the nekkid 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, (sounding familiar?) when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning.
The 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 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, (ahhh, man’s remedy for what is broken in the world) 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.