What have you done?
No, seriously. I’m asking you the hell you’ve done! I just got off the phone with my mother, and she says they’re not coming over for Christmas.
She wouldn’t say why, but I know it wasn’t something I did. So what have you done?
Were you bothering my father about football again? You know he doesn’t like it when you make fun of his team and lord your stupid team’s Super Bowl trophies over his head like a spoiled brat. He’s an old man, but he’s proud. He’s not going to tell you you’re pissing him off, but I sure as hell will.
And what else have you done?
All I asked was for you to put up the damn tree, but I had to haunt you for three weeks like the @#$%^&* Ghost of Christmas Past to get you to drag that thing up out of the basement. And when you finally did, you couldn’t even put it up straight.
Now the frigging angel, that we got the first year we lived together let me remind you, looks like it’s gonna fall off the top of it if one of us sneezes too close!
And don’t even get me started on the presents. What the hell have you done there?
I can count on one finger the times you got your lazy ass up off the couch to actually go Christmas shopping with me.
They’re your kids, too, you know. Not that I didn’t have other options, but because of some passing moment of insanity, I chose you.
And now you choose to ignore me and our children at Christmas.
What kind of husband and father acts this way during the happiest time of the year? My parents were right about you, but did I listen?
Of course not. Because you promised me the world. Remember that? You said you’d give me everything I could ever possibly want.
What have you done about that? Other than break that promise repeatedly.
Now look at what you did. You’ve got me crying like a baby so close to Christmas. Why would you do such a thing? I thought you loved me.
I can’t believe you. Really, I can’t.
Every morning now I get up, look at myself in the mirror, and I ask myself the same damn question…
What have you done? What have you done…
Please bring back Snapple and the Devil…this was like a depressing flashback.
The Devil visits every Sunday.
You thought this was depressing? I thought it was hilarious…
I’m being snarky your writing is always hilarious!
Thanks, Bryce. 🙂
Happy Holidays Austin. Here’s hoping that particular conversation is one you never have to take part in.
Merry Christmas, David.
I’m sure that conversation happens often as couples struggle to get through the holidays. 🙂
Thanks. Same to you. Hope all is well where you are. It’s cold and snowy here. 🙂
I love that picture! Happy Holidays to you!
Thank you. Merry Christmas!