Grandma Peg and the Humbel Nativity
My Grandma Peg LOVED Christmas. LOVED IT. She was nearly giddy with the glee of the damn season (SB calls it the Season of Darkness, so obviously my ass did not take after her. Also, Grandma had really big boobs, and I didn't get those either.).
Anyhoo, Peg loved Hummel figurines, which she called, Humbels, due to a slight hearing problem. (Yeah, and Elvis was Alvin Prescott, as you'll possibly fucking remember from an earlier post, but whatever. . .).
Grandma's ass splurged one year and bought herself the ENTIRE fucking Humbel Nativity. That shit was quite costly, as there is no accounting for taste, and Precious Moments figures were expensive once, too, right? Hummels and the Precious Moments make SB want to gag and bust them up WITH A FUCKING HAMMER, but again, I digress.
Before I go further, I should explain that my tiny southern grandmother was known for her eccentric decorating taste (she even wallpapered the backs of doors), and frankly, she had some fucking weird ideas about what went together. Also, a lot of her house looked like a fucking French whore house, but to her, that was GRAND DECOR, motherfuckers. That shit was posh.
Anyhoo, after purchasing the damn nativity, Grandma decided that her precious fucking manger was not showy enough and that the Baby Jesus should be spotlighted like a Barrymore in a play. After all, his infantile ass was supposed to be holy and worshipped by the animals and the damn Wise Men. He was THE POINT. He was THE STAR.
Grandma rigged a fucking Maglite to the roof of the manger, and SB's brother, Steve, would not stop making remarks and laughing about it. "Jesus Christ, Grandma, the Baby Jesus is going to be blind. How will he perform miracles WHEN HE'S BLIND?"
After that, undaunted by my brother's mirth, Grandma decided that the Humbel nativity didn't come with enough lowing beasts, so she bought some ill-sized cheap porcelain add-on animal figures that looked like they might eat the poor blinded Baby Jesus and worshipping Wise Men.
Well, of course, Peg thought that shit was JUST GREAT! Her manger would be the envy of the neighbourhood! She was SO PROUD of that cocksucking nativity, it was unbelievable. It had pride of place in the living room.
Note: My Aunt M. has the infamous nativity now and displays it every year, replete with the damn Maglite, which my brother still has to make rude comments about.
My Grandma Peg LOVED Christmas. LOVED IT. She was nearly giddy with the glee of the damn season (SB calls it the Season of Darkness, so obviously my ass did not take after her. Also, Grandma had really big boobs, and I didn't get those either.).
Anyhoo, Peg loved Hummel figurines, which she called, Humbels, due to a slight hearing problem. (Yeah, and Elvis was Alvin Prescott, as you'll possibly fucking remember from an earlier post, but whatever. . .).
Grandma's ass splurged one year and bought herself the ENTIRE fucking Humbel Nativity. That shit was quite costly, as there is no accounting for taste, and Precious Moments figures were expensive once, too, right? Hummels and the Precious Moments make SB want to gag and bust them up WITH A FUCKING HAMMER, but again, I digress.
Before I go further, I should explain that my tiny southern grandmother was known for her eccentric decorating taste (she even wallpapered the backs of doors), and frankly, she had some fucking weird ideas about what went together. Also, a lot of her house looked like a fucking French whore house, but to her, that was GRAND DECOR, motherfuckers. That shit was posh.
Anyhoo, after purchasing the damn nativity, Grandma decided that her precious fucking manger was not showy enough and that the Baby Jesus should be spotlighted like a Barrymore in a play. After all, his infantile ass was supposed to be holy and worshipped by the animals and the damn Wise Men. He was THE POINT. He was THE STAR.
Grandma rigged a fucking Maglite to the roof of the manger, and SB's brother, Steve, would not stop making remarks and laughing about it. "Jesus Christ, Grandma, the Baby Jesus is going to be blind. How will he perform miracles WHEN HE'S BLIND?"
After that, undaunted by my brother's mirth, Grandma decided that the Humbel nativity didn't come with enough lowing beasts, so she bought some ill-sized cheap porcelain add-on animal figures that looked like they might eat the poor blinded Baby Jesus and worshipping Wise Men.
Well, of course, Peg thought that shit was JUST GREAT! Her manger would be the envy of the neighbourhood! She was SO PROUD of that cocksucking nativity, it was unbelievable. It had pride of place in the living room.
Note: My Aunt M. has the infamous nativity now and displays it every year, replete with the damn Maglite, which my brother still has to make rude comments about.
10 comments:
Oh thank-you. Now I can get through this holiday season with the tiniest bit of grinchy-scroogy cheer in my belly. If wasn't ten-thirty in the morning, I'd make some damn eggnog and pour rum in it and raise a glass to Aunt Peg and to you, my dear sweet beloved Ms. Bastard.
Thank-you!
What a beautiful story.
There really is no accounting for taste.
Ms. Moon,
I love your new icon photo. You look glam as hell.
Jean,
I know--that story is some heart-warming shit, right? Laugh.
I am over from Ms. Moon's. :-)
I don't think I have ever heard the words "cocksucking nativity" in the same sentence! Bwhahahahha!
And Precious Moments. Dear god. My ex-SIL collected them. She had been collecting them for about 25 years when I left the family. She had hundreds, possibly thousands of them. Their sorry fucking excuses for faces with those sad fucking looks. God I hated them. HATED. I wanted to ask her why she collected shit like that when their were starving children in Africa. One of the few things my ex-husband and I could agree on at the end of our marriage was our hatred for PM.
Christmas will never be the same.
Thank you.
i would do ANYTHING to see a picture of this....
missing your mirth
xxalainaxx
My Mental Halls are now Decked.
O gawd. Wallpapered doors. I bet the baby Jesus put her up to it. It was one of his miracles.
What I don't understand is why people in the Northern climes put the effing nativity out in the damn cold. Babies don't, um, thrive covered with snow.
Sheesh.
This story is high-larious, SB. No wonder Ms Moon needs to see/hear it to make her holiday complete. Glad I dropped by. x0 N2
This post made me LOL!
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