“Do you know what you call someone who is afraid of Santa Claus? Claustrophobic.”

- anonymous

This has been another week of adventures for yours truly. I got home the other night from work around 6 and decided I'd just take a little nap on the couch. You know the kind I'm talking about, the type of nap that just sort of creeps up on you unexpectedly and suddenly you're out cold for about an hour.

Normally I enjoy waking up slowly; feeling a bit refreshed and ready to ignore whatever house hold chore there might be whether that is avoiding doing the dishes or taking a pass on cleaning the laundry. (Noticing a pattern here folks, obviously, I'm not all that domesticated).

That's not the way I was roused from sleep this time; from outside there came the sound of carolers. I love Christmas as much as the next guy but the lyrics to these songs have me a bit peeved. “Now bring us some figgie pudding.”

First off I don't even know what the heck “figgie” pudding is! And why do I have to make it? Don't these people have kitchens of their own? I guess I didn't get the memo where it is now my personal responsibility to prepare funky confections.

Then they go into a round of “We won't go until we get some.” My response to that kind of intimidation? One word: Supersoaker. I have found that a well-aimed splash of water, during a good snowfall, will make any dessert extortionists think twice before stopping by my house. I must say, for a bunch of greedy singers they sure could run fast. Since I was up, it seemed like I should tackle this Christmas wish list that my girlfriend had left for me. On a side note, why is it that when she makes a wish on a shooting star she won't tell me what she thought, but when it comes to me spending some cash she's all chatty? Go figure. Here's the list:

€ Warm socks (I guess I could get her a pair and throw them in the microwave for a few minutes.)

€ Makeup (I didn't even know we were fighting?)

€ Perfume (Does she really want the guy who used to steal his dad's Old Spice to be picking out her scents? That's just an argument waiting to happen. But then again, maybe that's what the making up is all about.)

€ A bread maker (OK, she likes to bake so that makes sense)

€ Yarn and crochet needles (Uh? No idea why.)

€ A quilt (What's next a cow and a butter churn? How about some nice chickens and a goat.)

I can't complain too much though at least she left me a list instead of having me guess, because if I have learned anything in this life you can never really tell what a woman wants.

Now, about those chickens.

Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here,

each Sunday, in The Citizen.

He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com