Boxing Day Madness: Hook Style!

While some people spent their Boxing Day battling their fellow man for that ever-elusive discounted big-screen TV, I spent it standing in the cold serving families that have found themselves screwed over by evolution.

Like this one…

GILLY’S DAD: (Wrestling with two male rugrats, ages two and eight, overcome by a sugar rush) Just empty my van, boss!

He proceeded to pop the back door on the mini-van from Hell. Seriously, this thing had dents, scrapes, eight layers of dirt and pretty much everything you could possibly cake on a vehicle. It also had every item you could possibly fit into a mini-van – with the possible exception of a body. And truth be told, there could have been one jammed underneath that mess…

THE HOOK: Sir, I could use some guidance here…

And so Dad decided to whip one of the little guys back into the van – literally – but it was a half-hearted effort and the other little guy escaped.

GILLY’S DAD: Hey, Gilly! Where are you, you little bas-

THE HOOK: (Just in the nick of time!) He’s here, sir! He’s playing with my cart.

And he certainly was: first the eight-year-old little terror ripped off his coat – apparently the sugar makes little guys immune to the rushing Ontario cold – and then he decided to re-enact a classic scene from A Christmas Story…

GILLY’S DAD: What’s he up to now?

THE HOOK: If I had to guess, I’d say he was trying to see if his tongue will stick to my cart, sir.

GILLY: It won’t work, Daddy!

Undeterred, he kept trying.

GILLY’S DAD: Where did I go wrong?

If I had to guess, I’d say throwing his children into the family ride was beginning to have detrimental effect on Gilly’s psyche. As I watched Gilly continue his efforts, I was inspired to speak up, but I held back. However, once Dad began to rifle through his vehicle for a bag of liquor, I realized nothing would phase this guy.

All bets were off.

THE HOOK: I’m guessing you eat a lot of glue in school, right Gilly?

GILLY: I love glue!

GILLY’S DAD: You see why I drink, boss?

At that point, both Gilly and his sibling pooled their efforts and ran screaming into the lobby. Dad’s response was ripped from the FEMA handbook; he did nothing but stare at the consequences of not using a condom – twice.

GILLY’S DAD: You have any ideas, boss?

THE HOOK: Are you willing to trust me, sir?

The look on his face spoke volumes.

And so Dad and I wheeled two carts through the lobby: one had the usual goodies piled high and securely.

The other carried two rugrats, both strapped tight to the ends with coats and scarves.

Improvisation comes with the territory when you’re a bellman.

HAPPY BOXING DAY, EVERYONE!

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