The Great Mistletoe Caper

Tony ran down the items on his Christmas clipboard, "chestnuts roasting on an open fire?"

"Check," Angela responded.

"Jack Frost nipping at your nose?"

"Check."

"Yuletide carols being sung by a choir?"

Angela flipped on the radio, "check."

"Folks dressed up like Eskimos?"

"Only when we're outside."

"That'll do. I prefer tropical attire myself."

"Me too." Specifically bikinis on beaches, and whispers of fabric. Bright flowy sundresses and warm, sultry sunsets. A certain nice package tied up in Speedos, yes, these were definitely a few of her favorite things.

"Turkey?"

"Huh, what?" Darn that Tony, he'd gone and interrupted her dreaming of her love keeping her warm. "Check," she said, hopefully fast enough to cover any inattention. How dare the man of her daydreams interrupt her daydreams!

"Mistletoe?"

Angela looked at the place where the mistletoe had been hung with care and screamed, "Tony!"

"What?"

She pointed in horror, "the mistletoe, it's...gone."

Gone? How could the mistletoe be gone? Angela had to be not-seeing things. He knew for a fact that the mistletoe was there yesterday. Angela knew it for a fact too. Tony looked up, then he looked down, then he looked all around. Angela was right, the mistletoe was gone. But where? And why? Who had stolen their mistletoe? What Grinch could have done this? Instantly his mind jumped to Mona. Had she appropriated the mistletoe for her own nefarious purposes?

"Tony, what are we going to do? We can't have Christmas without mistletoe, and it's Christmas Eve and all the stores are closed." It was a Christmas tragedy.

"It's ok, Angela..."

"Ok? OK? Do you not realize the mistletoe is...GONE!" she flopped onto the couch, almost in hysterics. "A day without mistletoe is like a day without sunshine. Like a good neighbor, the mistletoe was there. Mistletoe, the quicker picker-upper. Where's the mistletoe?"

Uh oh, this wasn't good; Angela was stressing out, she was speaking in advertising tongues, it was her way of coping. Whenever she started babbling in ad slogans he knew he had to calm her down.

He snapped his fingers in her face, "Angela, focus here," he sat down next to her, "let's look at this logically. Our mistletoe culprit is one of three people, no one came off the street and stole the mistletoe."

"Are you sure?"

"Angela, there are no bands of roving Mistletoe Marauders wandering around the streets of Fairfield."

"Right," she seemed a little relieved.

"So, I think we can rule out the kids, after all, why would they take the mistletoe; so that leaves..."

"Mona," they said together.

Angela picked up the phone and called her mother, "Mother, get that mistletoe back down here immediately."

"What are you talking about?"

"We know you took the mistletoe."

"I didn't take your crummy mistletoe. Some of us can conjure up the benefits of mistletoe without having to physically have it. Now, if you don't mind, I'm helping Santa...wrap presents. Goodbye." She slammed the phone down leaving Angela perplexed, perturbed and pensive; and wishing she had a thesaurus so she could find some adjectives that started with another letter.

Tony had heard the whole conversation and decided it was time to call the kids onto the carpet. "Sam! Jonathan!" he yelled upstairs.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Could you come down here please?"

"Do I have to? I'm writing a super-long letter to my beloved Rudy, he had the cutest nose and I want to be sure he gets this by Christmas."

"Now!"

Sam knew there was no arguing with that tone, Rudy would just have to wait, she hoped his frat brothers let him play in all their Christmas games; but if they didn't, she was good at consoling.

"Get Jonathan while you are at it."

"Fine."

Far more slowly than either parent wanted, the kids finally appeared downstairs; they both looked like they'd rather be anywhere else; a Christmas island, a little town of Bethlehem, or on a sleigh ride; it didn't matter where, just anywhere but where they were.

"So nice of you two to join us. Now," he drew their attention to the bare spot on the ceiling, "you will note a certain hall had been undecked. Do either of you two know anything about it?"

Sam answered no immediately, which left everyone staring at Jonathan.

"I did it, ha ha!" He confessed wildly, "I took the mistletoe, and I'd do it again. You'll never find it, it's gone forever, I threw it in the fire!"

"Jonathan!" his mother gasped, "why would you do such a thing?"

"Why? Are you kidding?" He imitated his mother, "Jonathan honey, could you do us a favor on Christmas Eve and sing for us while we kiss under the mistletoe?'"

"What's wrong with that? It's romantic!"

"I am not five; I am sixteen...going on seventeen! I will not sing 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,' I won't! I've always hated that syrupy song anyway. What's that kid doing out of bed in the first place? And how weird is it that he stays and watches his mother kiss Santa Claus? I just want to say, 'hey kid, that's not Santa, that's your father, you twit!' So, I will not be party to this monstrosity!" He stamped his foot.

"Don't be such a Grinch, Jonathan! Santa doesn't like Grinches, you might wind up with only coal for Christmas," Tony said.

"Fine, as long as I don't have to be around you two and your sickeningly sweet lovey-dovey dewy-eyed world of hearts and flowers and cherubs and unicorns."

"Cherubs and unicorns?" Sam echoed.

"You know what I mean."

Yeah, she did; these two were a little over the top and she couldn't blame Jonathan for putting his foot down over being used as a Christmas crooner; Bing Crosby he was not. "Are we done?" She asked, "I have a letter to get back to."

"Fine. We're done," Tony answered a little sullenly.

"Wait a minute," Angela stopped everyone, "we are not. Jonathan, if you didn't want to sing you could have just said so."

"You're so lost in la la land that you didn't even notice that asking in the first place was a little odd."

"Agreed," Sam said, even though she had only heard of this plan a few moments ago.

"So sorry, I didn't realize our happiness was such a burden to the both of you."

"There's no reason to get sarcastic, Mom; leave that to Grandma. Look, it's Christmas, let's all just smile and nod and enjoy the season; without singing."

"Fine; but what are we going to do for mistletoe?"

"How about asparagus and a red shoelace?" Jonathan suggested; not really seriously, but Tony and Angela were beyond caring.

Tony and Angela looked at each other and shrugged, "better than nothing," Tony said.

"Can we go now?"

"Fine."

The kids ran back upstairs so fast you'd have thought little saint nick was up on the house top.

"Now all we have to do is find their Christmas spirit," Angela said, "Tony, where are you going?"

"To get the asparagus; don't have any red shoelaces though, how about ribbon?"

"Fine, I am sure there is some red ribbon around somewhere. I hope this looks really bad so Jonathan never thinks to steal the mistletoe again."

"Looks don't matter, Angela, effectiveness does."

"Good point. Get the asparagus and we'll see if it has the same effect as mistletoe."

"Way ahead of you," he said as he slipped into the kitchen. Angela went in search of red ribbon, finally finding some buried under a pile of wrapping paper. Tony returned from the kitchen triumphantly holding up three stalks of asparagus. Angela tied the ribbon around them and they placed the 'mistletoe' in its proper home. They kissed, but only briefly as the 'mistletoe' slipped out of the ribbon and speared them in the head.

"Ouch!" Angela yelled.

Tony rubbed his head, "so much for asparagus,"

"Now what do we do?"

"Let's just go make out by the fireplace."

"Good plan," Angela agreed.

So they did.