The Urban Man’s Yule Log

So on Christmas Eve, I poured a glass of Springbank 18 year old scotch, lit one of my good Cuban Cohiba Esplendidos, and set to work as one of Santa’s elves in my workshop constructing toys for Walker and Murphy to enjoy on Christmas morning. Of course, this show was mostly for their mother because what three-day-old can realize what’s under a Christmas tree, but since the world was ending, I carried on late into the night, diligently sipping scotch and puffing on my Cohiba, constructing their gifts and arranging them under the tree. On Christmas morning, I was tired but satisfied in the knowledge that my boys would have a helluva first and last Christmas.

As luck would have it, the world survived, and so did my tradition of preparing gifts late into the night with my old pals Springbank and Cohiba. Although the twins’ gifts these days don’t require much assembly (Nintendo, Wiis, and 3-Ds come pre-assembled, thank God!), I have continued my Christmas Eve tradition of putting together the toys for my three younger kids: Hudson, Lola and Charlotte.

This year will be no different except that, as the world is supposed to end a little earlier this time, on my twins’ birthday, as the Mayan calendar expires and we somehow all perish instantly, I’m going to get into my workshop, pour my glass and light my Cohiba a few days earlier so I can enjoy my yearly tradition, just in case the Mayans are right.

(_{RM]__[[[~

Comments

comments