While I’ve been sitting on my ass, waiting for the Zoloft to kick in, I’ve been receiving certain e-mails.
From my mother.
Remember Krampus?
Yes. Everybody’s favorite dancing frog family mascot is on the loose. See, whenever I leave my parents’ house, I inevitably forget something. I think it’s my mom’s way of insuring that I will return. At Christmas? Well, I forgot Krampus.
I know. I feel horrible. I had a cold. He blended in with the Christmas decorations. I am a terrible parent. I have no excuse.
So, lately? Krampus has gotten sick of sitting on his ass, waiting for me to get off my ass and come get him.
I guess my parents’ living room gets dull after a while. The frog is now on some sort of walkabout. And I am the lucky recipient of his vacation photos. This one makes me think of “Gonna fly now” from Rocky.
This one made me nervous.
And with good reason. This next photo accompanied an e-mail that simply said, “Ohhhhh … shhhhiiiiii … “
Any bets on where Krampus will end up next? I just hope he has the good sense not to end up in Vegas, married to a waitress.
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