Well, here it is, Christmas Eve. The stockings are hung, the cookies are baked, the spouse has worn the camel suit (long story). All is ready for the celebration of the birth of the Savior. Gather 'round, readers, and Auntie Desperate will tell you a Christmas story.
I know a lot of you found this blog through Ann Coulter. So I'm going to tell you an Ann story.
Some years ago when I was living in NYC and Ann was far from famous, my husband and I gave an annual Christmas party. Ann always came, always with an entourage (mostly hopeful young men), and being Ann, she was always late.
Our Christmas party was always a big production, at least for DIH. There were always at least sixty or seventy people, and I made all the food myself (except the sacred lasanga- my half-Italian husband always made that), and did all the baking. Gingerbread men, butter cookies, lemon squares, cheesecakes, apricot rum tortes, chocolate layer cakes, almond paste laden pastries, all that good stuff. By the time it was all over DIH was pretty tired, and especially she was sick of being in the kitchen.
One year Ann arrived at the party just about the time everyone else was taking off. This took her by surprise I think- hey, it was only one a.m., where was everybody going? -- but she didn't take it personally. She looked around my empty living room and announced, "Well! Bet the kitchen's a real mess! Come on, Sue, let's go wrap things up!"
And with that, the lovely long-limbed Ms Coulter rolled up her sleeves and cleaned up the kitchen.
A couple of years ago we moved to Minneapolis. Not a lot of like-minded people here. But nice ones nevertheless, and as always we gave our Christmas party in our new home.
Most of our guests were liberal Dems. One of them,our next-door neighbor, was a professional LD. He ran a fundraising business for things like organic food coops and the like. Late in the evening he noticed a photo of Ann on a sidetable. It was one of her Christmas cards- a photo of her and Ronald Reagan, with the legend "Peace through strength on earth" scribbled at the bottom.
"Hmph! Ann Coulter! She's a [common expletive deleted.]!" said the man.
DIH tries not to take umbrage any more often than she must but nobody steps on my Ann, and certainly not in my house. "She's a very nice girl!" I retorted. "She always loved our Christmas party too. One year she even cleaned up the kitchen!"
There was silence in the living room.
Then my next-door neighbor spoke again.
"Well," he said, "I'm not going to be outdone by the likes of Ann Coulter!"
And with that, he cleaned up my kitchen.
Merry Christmas. all. God bless us every one.