Christmas Crazies

Christmas Crazies

25 December 2018...

Bensten Household

"Max, could you get out of the Grinch outfit already and give me a hand with the turkey? Take it out the oven and I'll get the cranberry sauce ready," I command, moving over to the microwave to check my reflection yet again.

"But Baby, how come you get to dress as a hot reindeer?" he asks, deliberately whining in an attempt to get his own way. 

I do make a hot reindeer.

"Because I said so." I turn to narrow my eyes at him before going back to fixing up my appearance, carefully tossing my brown hair over one shoulder.

"It's not fair. I want to be the Grinch," he complains, ripping the green hat from his head and throwing it my direction.

I ignore him and pout at my reflection, applying more lip gloss before popping my lips and winking at myself.

Perfect. I look good.

"When is Benley getting here?" he asks me, changing the subject.

"Soon, hence why I need you to cooperate and listen to everything I say," I tell him firmly, keeping up a straight face. "We're not hosting for nothing. It's all got to be perfect, okay? Do you understand me?"

It's the first time we're having Benley's girlfriend over at our new house and I want to make a good impression - something Max never cares to do.

"Wish I didn't," he says under his breath. "So bossy," he scoffs aloud.

I spin on my heels to face him, annoyed. "What did you just say to me?" I glare at him, ready to go the extreme if necessary.

Repetitive knocking on the door takes his attention away from me.

"Those damn carol singers again!" he shouts as he goes to open the door. 

I roll my eyes at him. Second time today.

I cringe when hearing him yell at them:

"How many times have I told you guys, you can't sing! You're all annoying! Shut the hell up or I'll tear out your voice boxes!"

I wince when I hear the door slam shut after him.

"Why was there crying?" I question, raising my perfectly plucked eyebrows at him, hands on my hips as I stare him down.

"Mostly kid carolers who kept calling me the Grinch when I told them to leave," he answers with a shrug, uncaring.

He's never been great with kids, especially girl ones like Lucy.

"Why do you hate Christmas anyway?" I ask, used to his behavior. 

He never has Christmas spirit. His Christmas joy is dead.

"Because you love it, for one," he teases, his brown eyes alight in mischief.

I send him a deadpanned stare.

He caves. "Because all our friends are gone, okay?" 

"What?" I ask softly. 

There was a time when he once loved Christmas.

"Aqueela, gone. Jay, gone. Troy, gone. Everyone, gone. Heck, even Grey and all those ultra fly guys...we don't see them anymore," he sighs.