Kissing Baby Jesus

Red Shoes are Better than Bacon

I will never be cool. I’ve never kissed a woman, other than in the most forced greeting, and even then I make great efforts to avoid doing so. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you, but it’s just not my style. But an effort to be polite, I bowed and kissed Baby Jesus. It was agonizing.

Not all Christmases are festive and joyous or even as picturesque as something Noman Rockwell could’ve dreamed up. Some are spent in lonely bars. Some are spent with odd lots of relatives and a police presence. Others are spent looking for Chinese restaurants. And some are simply awful.

There was Christmas Day in Iowa City, dining at Denny’s. The bar exam review course would start the next day, and for the next ten days I would be the sole occupant of the FIJI house with Mother Guy’s blessing. For at least a…

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3 comments on “Kissing Baby Jesus

  1. Jim Karger says:

    Entertaining as ever!

    Merry Christmas from Jim in San Miguel de Allende.

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  2. jwylie39@aol.com says:

    I hope to the blessed god and allah and yahwee and shiva on high that you kissed the dolls feet in reverence, and not one of it’s 4 cheeks! j.

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  3. Carole Kocian says:

    First Christmas in a coon’s age we have not had a Christmas tree or decorated rooms. It was Heavenly. And I don’t have to deconstruct all that stuff and put it back in packages that don’t fit.

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