Mr. Claus walked through the door of the house in Berkeley and said, “Where’s that cookie jar?”
J.J. picked it up from the coffee table and handed it to him.
Mr. Claus took off the lid and reached in to take out a star-shaped edible. He popped it in his mouth and stumbled over to his lazy chair. Peanut, who was lying underneath the harpsichord, raised her head up and sniffed the air. She hurried to a standing position and walked over to the lazy chair wagging her tail as far as it would go from side to side.
Mrs. Claus looked over from the couch and said, “Bad day at the office, honey?”
“Got into it with a gangster nisse from Denmark and it looks bad for us with regards to the virus- but other than that okay.”
The doorbell rang and J.J. went over to get it. He opened the door and looked around but didn’t see anyone. He looked down at the ground and there was a package with a big, stylized smile on the side.
“Who ordered from Amazon?” he asked as he picked up the package and brought it into the house.
“Not me,” answered Mrs. Claus.
“Not us,” said Liz.
“And I didn’t, so let’s see who it’s addressed to,” said J.J.
“It’s probably a horse’s head from Viggo,” said Mr. Claus as he was finishing his edible.
“It’s at least to you,” said J.J.
“I didn’t order anything,” said Mr. Claus.
“Then don’t touch it, anyone,” said Leroy in his booming voice as he walked into the living room.
Leroy was the person they called when they needed a problem fixed. He had helped them every Christmas over the last decade.
Mr. Claus put his hands up and said, “Not touching it. What’s the problem?”
“It’s Christmas, William called me, something must be up,” answered Leroy.
“I just had a bad feeling is all,” said William.
“Christmas is gonna be Christmas,” said Mr. Claus and shook his head.
