Christmas, Day Eight

…or On the Eighth Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me: a hangover.

Down at Seaside Villa

Joodles: You’d better get up, dear.
Lancelot: No, you get up.
Joodles: No, you get up. There’s a ton to do and you promised to take the grandchildren tomorrow.

Lancelot: No, that’s next week. Ooooh my head.
Joodles: No, that’s tomorrow.
Lancelot: Where can I find Babysitter Brenda’s phone number?
Joodles: I don’t know dear, why don’t you get up and look.
Lancelot: No, you get up.

Meanwhile over at the Trailer Park:

Joodles: Lannie wake up, it’s almost four o’clock.
Lannie: Wah? Whoa, where am I?

Joodles: You’d better get crackin’. You got the Grandkids comin’ to hang out tomorrow.
Lannie: Whaaa – naw, can’t be. I got the guys comin’ over to practice. Y’all sure about that?
Joodles: Sure as eggs is eggs. Now excuse me, I gotta yodel some groceries here.

Lannie: Just ten more minutes.

© Judy Parsons 2019

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