It seemed like a good idea at the time, Christmastime to be precise.
The first blast of truly winter weather was hitting New England. It was a week before Christmas. I looked out the window from our toasty warm kitchen at the snow coming down. My thoughts turned to my little furry and feathered friends who were weathering the storm outside. I filled the birdfeeders earlier in the day and put two big, uncarved pumpkins from Halloween out for the squirrels to get the pumpkin seeds.
As the snow came down, we were taking a break from wrapping presents and setting up the Christmas tree. My wife was assembling the necessary ingredients for making brownies in the pantry when she came across an old bag of potatoes. There were only a few spuds in the bag but they were spongey and had sprouts growing out the eyes.
“These need to be tossed” she said as she handed me the bag.
“I’ll take care of it, ” I said.
Little did she know how literally I would fulfill her request. My plan was to toss the potatoes out back for the raccoons, opossum and other critters that were toughing out the storm.
Out on the back porch the storm was really blowing. I heaved the first potato and it disappeared into the snowy night, landing with a thump on the garage roof. Clearly, I didn’t throw it hard enough. I put more oomph into the next toss and the potato seemed to clear the garage. I couldn’t be sure in the dark with the snow coming down. I chucked the last spud and went back inside the house.
The next day dawned bright and clear. Unfortunately, when I went to work I could clearly see all three potatoes on the roof of the garage with a little topping of snow on each. I hoped know one would notice. Christmas was just a week away.
Over the next several days there was a thaw. The snow on the garage roof entirely melted away revealing three potatoes randomly arrayed on the roof. My wife hadn’t noticed them so I thought I was in the clear.
My neighbor noticed them right away.
“Looks like there are three potatoes on your garage roof,” he observed dryly.
“I put them up there so Santa’s reindeer would have something to eat, ” I replied.
Being a man of tact my neighbor didn’t ask anymore questions. He’s a great guy.
Christmas morning I came out and found the potatoes in the drive way. They had rolled off the roof in the night. I discretely disposed of the spuds.
If my neighbor asks what happened, or my wife, I’m blaming it on Rudolph!
Merry Christmas!!!
copyright 2017 Christopher Donahue