out, Dan had mentioned to the girls that we would be serving beluga caviar and foie gras with our stuffed pheasant. "I really need to keep Dan out of gay bars," I mused.
Christmas Eve dinner came and went without incident, thanks to the presence of Captain NoNeck, who I had hired as my enforcer for the evening. Everyone pretended to enjoy my feast of turkey loaf, thick-as-snot gravy, green-bean casserole, lumpy mashed potatoes, and cranberry-flavored soda. I was still drinking Tequila and Dan's sisters were draining our liquor cabinet.
As my cowering guests grabbed their coats to leave, Captain NoNeck grinned and said, "I believe your host, Missus Cooper, has something to say. Everyone slipped into their seats and shot nervous glances back and forth at NoNeck and me.
I daintily clinked my glass with a fork, in the pretentious girly manner used to get the room's attention. "It was so kind of all of you to share my family's Christmas Eve dinner on such little notice," I said while glacially staring at Dan. "I'm sure I can speak for everyone when I say, 'how delicious was the meal!' Let's give the staff at Arby's a big round of applause for catering this amazing meal" With a nod, I had Captain NoNeck demonstrate his talent at bending a steel bar into the shape of a pretzel. My guests gave the Arby's employees a standing O. Satisfied that I had their full attention for the rest of the evening, I stood in our livi-dining room and announced, "With Captain NoNeck's support, here's how the rest of Christmas is going to play out."
As expected, all 27 of us arrived at 1:00 a.m. sharp on Christmas morning at the studio of "Uncle David's Treasured Treasures." Our photographer, Todd Everest Portman grumpily unlocked the studio door and let Dan, my sons, and me in. He began locking the door behind us when I said, "But wait, there's more!"
"Huh?" Todd Everest grunted through his mouthful of prune Danish.
I shoved the door open and loudly whistled. On command, the six cars' doors opened and out popped Fran, Bernie, Chloe, Barbara, Annie, all the Allen clan, and the Conner family.
"Wait...wait a wool-picking minute!" Todd Everest stammered. "I did not agree to this number of people. Clearly, you Poopers are violating the terms of your contract with "Uncle David's Treasured Treasures," he whined as he waved a handful of papers over his head. "As such, I am calling my attorney right this very minute to begin our legal collection efforts for the Polar Dream package."
I reached out and forcibly closed his phone. "Section 12, subparagraph XVII states, and I quote, 'During the contracted sitting, clients are permitted to include all of their family and friends that they see fit. Exclusion will not be supported, in the spirit of the giving holiday season.' So, Todd Everest, what have you got to say now?" I said.
Todd Everest threw his hands up, rolled his eyes, and plopped on his seat behind the pre-positioned camera and sulked. "Get everyone into their places. I don't care who or how. I want to get this over with by 1:31 a.m. so…cram in."
I cracked a thin smile. "Now for Stage 2," I whispered to Dan. All the ankle-biters were hopped up on Red Bull, which I had slipped into their sippy cups about an hour before. They raced around the studio like a pack of monkeys. Perry's girlfriend, Tiffany Rae, whined in her grating, thin, and shrill voice so loudly above the din of our monkey-kids that Dan's sister, Chloe, got a nosebleed. It ran all down her winter-white dress. Todd Everest was unable to position the men in the back from shortest to tallest. Unknown to him, I had the men alternate between standing up on their toes and crouching down.
"Why isn't everyone in the picture?" Todd Everest wailed. He actually started jumping up and down like a spoiled child when it became obvious the 27 of us would never be able to fit in the photo. It was 1:35 a.m. and the poor little dickens was nearly bawling. He was facing a breech of contract that would cost good old "Uncle David's Treasured Treasures" all its Christmas presents that year.
I said, "Look, Tool…"
"Todd Everest, to you," he interrupted.
"As I was saying, Tool, I'm going to make a deal with you. Either you come out to my house at 11:00 a.m. today, Christmas Day, and take the stupid family portrait of us standing in our front yard, or…"
He sniffed, "I refuse to make deals. I am the magnificent artist T…"
"Tommy Franklin Smith from Rochester, NY. According to your police record, you have spent a number of years in prison for impersonating pilots, doctors, lawyers, and celebrities." I said, completing his sentence.
Shocked, Todd Everest frothed at the fact that he had been exposed. Then, when he realized I had him by his short-and-curlies, he dropped his prideful shoulders and sadly looked me in the eyes, and said, "You caught me, Missus Cooper. I am ashamed of my behavior and I have shamed my family. Please let me complete the contract per your very fair and reasonable demands. I will have my gear set up at your house so we can shoot a most magnificent family portrait. All I ask in return is you don't report me to my boss or my latest wife."
"Done!" I jubilantly exclaimed. "Hey, everyone! We're gathering back up at my house at 11:00 to be included in what will undoubtedly be the most awesome family photo in the history of film."
At daybreak, I sprang out of bed, threw on my winter garb, and headed out the front door. "Perfect, absolutely perfect!" I yelled. It had been a hard-fought battle, but I finally won one. Corporate America would rue the day they messed with Lacey Candice Cooper! I got out a rake and smoothed all the new-fallen snow into a downy blanket. A foot of snow covered the steep hill in front of the house. Our Tudor-style home at the top of this hill was to be the backdrop for our picture.
I threw some garland, bows, and lights on every tree except the big elm. Over the years, neighborhood kids lodged dozens of balls and Frisbees in the thing. The latest round of toilet paper hung like icicles from it. Full of moxie and character, the elm would be a wonderfully natural frame for the right side of our photograph, I believed.
Todd Everest Portman arrived at 10:30 to set up his equipment. When I opened the door, he said, "Wow, that was a huge latte I drank. You should know I'm not much of a morning person." Scratching his oily permed hair, he asked, "Would you mind if I stepped inside to use…"
"Mom!" Perry yelled, "Where's my gift for Tiffany Rae? She's been asking for it!"
"I have it. I thought it would be a great idea to capture the expression on her face when she opens your gift the moment Todd Everest takes the family photo."
"You're awesome, Mom!" Perry yelled back.
This was my crowning moment. It was 11:00 and Todd Everest was ready for us. Everyone was all in that giddy, festive Christmas spirit. It didn't take but five minutes for all 27 of us to form a semi-circle around the snowwoman I built for the picture.
Smiling and waiving, Todd Everest yelled, "On the count of 3 – one…two…three!"
Tiffany Rae tore open the gift from Perry on the "one" count. On "two," she frowned and growled, "It's not Cartier, you ass!" On "three," Tiffany Rae kneed my boy, Perry, right in the nads. Her force was so strong and aim so perfect that Perry threw up all over his Grandma Fran. My snowwoman had either fallen, or was pushed over—landing against my husband, Dan's, back.
"Got it!" Todd Everest exclaimed. "All of you were amazing. This will be a magnificent work of art, I assure you! Now, all of you go back inside and get warm. I'm going to pack up and let you kind folks get on with your Christmas merriment."
"Oh, Todd Everest," I called out, "didn't you start to say you wanted to come in? You're more than welcome to share the holiday with us!" I was so giddy, I skipped around in circles.
"Nope, I'm good. Gotta get back to my family and our Christmas fun," Todd Everest sardonically replied.
A week later, our cherished family photo arrived from "Uncle David's Treasured Treasures." Fran, Bernie, and Chloe were still in my house. So was Dan, that leech. I gathered them and my sons up in the living room. I imagined a frosty vignette of this huge family all cheerily smiling and waving to the camera. I opened the manila envelope as I grinned from ear to ear.
We were all there, alright. My father-in
-law, Bernie, was caught goosing Sandra Conner, my son, Matt's, former girlfriend. The surprised look on her face told the whole sad story. Missus Conner, Sandra's mother, was taking a swig from an upturned bottle of Jack Daniels. Mister Conner and Missus Allen were French kissing. All the little kids were giving each other "bunny ears." Perry's former girlfriend, Tiffany Rae Allen had the meanest look I've ever seen on a girl's face. Her knee was firmly planted in Perry's crotch, mashing his Christmas balls into dust. In turn, his subsequent retching on Grandma Fran was visible in its full glory. Then, the camera caught the surprised look on Dan's face at the moment when my snowwoman flopped over onto his back. This was the only bright spot of the picture – a memory that I never let Dan forget – I call it my rendition of the night he spent with a transvestite.
When all was said and done, Todd Everest Portman was truly a genius. Here he was, faced with a demeaning situation that frustrated him to no end. My family's photograph was completely out of his control, or so I thought.
There, occupying the lower half of our family portrait, were the words, "Bite Me," scrawled with urine sprayed across my downy blanket of snow.
###
Author's Note:
"Of Yellow Snow and Christmas Balls" represents facets of several run-ins I've had with the