Primo and my father made a snowman, or, to be more exact, a snow-demon who had fallen down and sustained a serious blow to the head. Esoteric son and father I've got.
Then we listened to Dean Martin and Elvis Presley sing Christmas carols and trimmed my parents' tree. Or, I should say, Primo did it. He decked the halls like it was closing time.
And when we were done, it looked pretty lovely:
And Primo said, "I have a feeling it is going to be the best Christmas ever."
Posts
