Three Raccons Save Christmas

Christmas sucked until three bandits showed up.

My Christmas wasn't a pity party.

But it wasn't exactly filled with joy either.

For starters I didn't have my kids this year.

Ahhhhh, divorce.

The gift that keeps on giving.

My step-mother died less than a month ago, right at Thanksgiving.

And my dad has colon cancer and the odds on survival he just got from the doctor aren't all that inspiring.

With this culmination of fun hanging over me like a dark cloud I decided to spend Christmas with my father.

There was no tree.

No decorations.

There was, however, lots of Miller Lite and we started drinking them pretty early.

About mid-afternoon I pulled a game camera out of my bag.

My father, having never seen one, asked what it was.  I told him and said that I brought it to try to capture pics of the armadillo that had been using his yard like his own personal buffet.

I set it up and went back to drinking beer.

We grilled some steaks, drank some more beer, watched some football, then kissed Christmas 2016 goodbye and went to bed.

The next day my father asked if my camera had caught his armadillo.

"Let's see," I offered and popped the SIM Card in my laptop.

Here's his reactions to the pictures I captured.

And, be warned, they're not safe for work.

Meaning he cussed quite a bit.

"What is...God damned possum!  What? He n' the armadillo can dig up the yard together?!"

"Ugly son of a bitch!"

"Oh great! Another varmint to tear up the yard!"

"Christ! There's three of those little sons a' bitches!"

"What am I running out there? A god damn nocturnal zoo?! Little bastards."

Despite all his gruffness, my father did laugh while complaining about the menagerie tearing up his yard while he sleeps. 

I got a kick out of his comments as well.

So, I guess things weren't all that bad.

Thanks to the raccoons and possum for giving us a break from our sadness.

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