Bathroom Monologue: Odysseusmas

Grandpa Odysseus hates carolers. We didn’t understand, for he was otherwise festive. The one post of his bed was a tree, and every December 1^st he decorated it so bright you could see it from space. He gave uncanny gifts. Last year I got a dried out Cyclops eye, and Threnody got the prettiest fleece you’ve ever seen. For the dinner he always orders prime cuts from Old Circe’s Farm, which is a long way to go, even if it is succulent. He’s never met a door-to-door salesman he couldn’t con, and he’ll swap stories with Jehovah’s Witnesses in the foyer all day. His only gripe is Christmas carolers. Barely able to walk, he’ll fight his way down to the docks and we have to tie him to a mast to keep him still. You’d think a war vet would be scared of something a little more challenging than two or three little carolers.