The tiny box under the tree was wrapped in

The tiny box under the tree was wrapped in gold foil paper &a cute lil' bow. It had my name on it. "Go on," said Ted. "Open it!" I tore into the package, sure that this year, Ted

would finally pop the question. The box was small enough - it just had to be a ring! Snatching off the newly exposed lid, inside lay a festive pair of gold lamé hotpants and

a little silver vest with the name of my dancing mouse across the back in sparkly ruby letters. But Quentin had died in June. What was wrong with Ted? He was there! Why did I still

have to remind him? And why did I bother? Ted had the attention span of a goldfish. I stood up suddenly and let out a tiny squeak. The glittery jacket slid to the floor. Ted said

. "Wait. What was I doing?" And why was he holding goldfish? He mindlessly scratched his head. He started to panic. Was he going senile, or

had he simply been very successful at the goldfish bowl game at the county fair? By now the goldfish were beginning to gasp and I had to get them into water fast. Looking around, I

spotted nothing. Not a body of water, or water bottle in sight (strange as it may be). Suddenly I had an idea. The port-o-potties. I ran into the first one to find a person who was

Folding a story and laughing out loud as he typed it in. I was invited to add the next line, as I was already a member of the Folding Stories team. "Comrade, what do you think?",

"I think," they said, "this is by far the most hilarious stuff we've seen on the site!" "But Denny, aren't all FoldingStories that way?" And then, they all laughed heartily.