We all know the famous poem written by Clement Clarke Moore in 1822. Or some version of it.
Every year I throw an annual cheesy bread party (yep, it's what you're thinking it is). The first year started as less of a party and more like a few random friends stopping by with cheap wine for leftover cheese toasted on stale bread. Over the years it has morphed into a decadent affair, though I almost cancelled the last soiree. After staying up until close to 4 in the morning putting the last ornaments on the tree just to find it on the ground the next morning, you could say I was less than thrilled. For some God damn reason it has been a huge pain in the ass to keep the Christmas tree standing the last few years. And this year would be no different.
There was so much to be done the day of the party, none of which involved standing the tree back up, re-trimming it, and rewrapping all the gifts that were smashed and soaked underneath it. I freaked out for a few minutes and contemplated cancelling the party because that would have been the easy way out. Instead I took a shot of Jameson to get my mind right and got to work. The night was a total blast as usual and went by in a flash. The only time I really got to sit down and relax was during the White Elephant gift exchange. The favored gift was a tin of sativa gummies which My Special Man Friend ("MSMF") stole from a buddy of ours. To take the party up a notch, MSMF tore the lid open and immediately popped a whole gummy and passed them around.
Fast forward, an hour later a group of people on the couch were trying to name all of Santa's reindeer. I thought for sure I could name them all, especially if I sung them. "Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen. Comet, Cupid Donner and Blitzen..." For some reason it just didn't sound right. As everyone attempted to sing song their way to figuring out the correct order MSMF blurts out, "what about Ambros?" Ambros? Who the fuck is Ambros?
You know Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Ambros? MSMF has absolutely no explanatio
n, even to this day, why he thought one of the reindeers was named Ambros. But I think it's the funniest shit I've ever heard. And he claims it had nothing to do with the edible, even though both of us couldn't spread tangerine jelly on the last round of cheesy breads. Apparently our motor skills weren't what they were at the beginning of the night. I just laughed and proceeded to slap the toast with my butterknife until I got enough jelly on it.
n, even to this day, why he thought one of the reindeers was named Ambros. But I think it's the funniest shit I've ever heard. And he claims it had nothing to do with the edible, even though both of us couldn't spread tangerine jelly on the last round of cheesy breads. Apparently our motor skills weren't what they were at the beginning of the night. I just laughed and proceeded to slap the toast with my butterknife until I got enough jelly on it.
And I still crack up laughing any time I think to myself on Comet, on Cupid, on Donner... on Ambros!
