My uncle sat back in the chair and laughed.

My uncle sat back in the chair and laughed. "...Reminds me of the time there was a mixup in the toy factory and one of the homemade movies made at the North Pole was sent out to

Netflix." Uncle Kringle leaned forward and, laying a finger aside of his nose, whispered, "Our little homemade movie featured the Babes in Toyland. Yup, distributed by mistake."

I hated Uncle Krinkle because he smelled like cough syrup.

Mixed with Sprite. And sometimes Jolly Ranchers. Dirty Sprite. Syrup. Sizzurp. I hated him for smelling like that. It brought back memories of when I used to tie towels to my elbow

and swing from the shower curtain rack. He would laugh, but was he really laughing with me? All that sugar in his system, who knew if it wasn't just

barely arrived in town and already there he was on the eve of being sworn in as Juror #9. I asked him what his secret was. "Never let them see the sun", he answered. My confused

limbs smacked him in the face. He kindly ignored this faux pas and enumerated, "That bit of human kindness in your soul, keep it for you. No one else wants to see that shit."

Dorcas, the self-proclaimed Fairy Queen of Etiquette was excruciatingly lowered from the rafters on pulleys badly in need of oil. "Language!" she said, before the ropes broke, and

Her book, Dorcas Dishes, was published for the eighth time and given an Oprah Award for best cookbook. Oprah had her as a guest on July 27, 2016. Her brownies were a smash hit. End