Just North of Whoville by Turiskylie, Joyce (free children's ebooks pdf .TXT) 📗

“Let’s do a little exercise. Make a list of the things that you DO have in your life. What do you have that’s good? Sit. Write.”

So I thought about it. I thought really hard.

“Take your time,” she said calmly.

I strained to come up with something. Finally---

“Well…I have my health,” I said with a sigh and a puff.

“That’s good!” she encouraged. “Write that down. Your health is important. You don’t have anything if you don’t have your health.”

“Now you’re just patronizing me.”

“A little. But this is good. Keep going.”

So I sat there. On a futon. Really thinking about this question. And then I started to sniffle again.

“That’s it,” I could feel the tears starting to come again. “I already scraped the bottom of the barrel with the health thing.”

“Okay,” she said as she crossed her fishnets the other way, getting down to business. “Let’s try something else. Did you ever go to the pound to pick out a dog?”

“I never had a dog. I couldn’t even get a dog walking job. No dog. No horse.”

“You gotta let the horse thing go,” she begged.

“I have a cat,” I tried to be helpful. “But she hides a lot. Her name is Heidi. I didn’t name her that because she hides. It’s just...I named her and then she never came out. But I know she’s there. She eats the food and drinks the water. And I clean the poop out of the litter box.”

“Oh Dorrie, you’re killing me,” she sighed. “Focus. You’re in a pound. You’re looking in the cages. Which dog do you pick?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

“You pick the dog that comes to you. The one wagging his tail all happy to see you. You don’t pick the angry dog growling at you. And you don’t pick the sad one with the hangdog face lying in the corner.”

“See, now that’s the one I’d probably pick.”

“And that’s why you’re not in a relationship right now. But we’ll get to that later. Dorrie, most people pick the happy, tail-wagging dog. The one with the hangdog face--he gets put to sleep. You need to be that happy dog. Wag your tail, meera.”

“I… I wag my tail. I mean….not in the dirty sense.”

“Ay vieja. Listen to me---Starting right now, I want you to have The Best Christmas Ever. Now is the perfect time of year to get rid of that hangdog face and get into the Christmas spirit.”

“I don’t know…”

“You can do this, Dorrie.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything else with my life,” I moped.

“And that’s the attitude that’s got to go. I know you have it in you. You just been sitting on it too long. So you make like Marc Anthony on J.Lo and you tap that big ass.”

“Could I just see that diploma?”

I had to ask. Especially because all the frames on the wall were conveniently covered in Christmas wrap.

“Ay mierda! Stupid fucking receptionist. I told her not to wrap my diploma. I swear to god I’m going to fire that puta! Tonta!” she yelled in the direction of the reception area as she pulled a frame off the wall and ripped off the wrapping.

“Here. Merry Christmas,” she said as she handed me the diploma.

Dr. Emily Prince. NYU. Not too shabby.

“And that ain’t no Affirmative Action bullshit, either!”

Maybe she was right. Maybe I had been sabotaging myself. A little bit of Christmas Spirit? Simple enough. What did I have to lose?

“Next,” Little Miss Sunshine said the next morning as she handed some change to a customer.

“I’ll have a small coffee, please,” I said simply.

“Would you like to try our…” and then she looked up. “Oh. Sorry. Small coffee. Coming right up.”

“Um…” I said as she reached towards the coffee urn. “I’ll try that Christmas blend.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed unsure as she poured the Christmas blend into the festive red and green paper cup.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. It was just…”

“Bad day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen worse. Some people are monsters before they’ve had their morning coffee. Here, this will cheer you up,” she said as she slid something across the counter. “It’s a Walnut Eggnog Biscotti. They’re really yummy. My treat. Merry Christmas!”

Oh god, she was going to make me say it.

“Merry Christmas.”

She smiled. Like I made her day or something. And I had a free biscotti. I guess this wasn’t too bad. I could maybe keep this up for a week; after that, I’d have to strangle someone. I can’t wish people a Merry Christmas for six more weeks. And what about Thanksgiving? After all, people don’t start wishing you a Happy New Year till at least the day after Christmas. And by the way, shouldn’t there be a cut-off date for that? I’ve had people continue wishing me a Happy New Year all thru January; as if I needed a month’s worth of reminders that I’d already tanked on my resolutions.

On the way to work, I stopped by the drugstore to pick up some Christmas candy. I’m not a candy person, but someone else might enjoy partaking in a piece. I could continue to spread my holiday cheer, by simply pouring a bag of candy into a dish and leaving it on my reception desk. This way, I wouldn’t have to actually say “Merry Christmas.” A piece of peppermint candy would say it all.

Later that morning, I got my first Christmas present.

“This is for you,” Timmy said as he handed me the small, silver-wrapped box. “It’s just a little something to thank you for helping me.”

My “help” consisted of giving Timmy my number and advising him to just wear something simple like a pair of Khaki pants and a colorful shirt. I did take a frantic