What Do Judges, Bomb Squads, and Christmas Have in Common?

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This hilarity was written on behalf of Collective Bias and Nick Mom

 

The holidays are upon us, and because I needed a good laugh I was parusing NickMom for some funny holiday stories. There was this hysterical post about certifiably insane holiday decorations. It had me in stitches, and even better yet it reminded me of one my funniest holiday stories I heard growing up.

This was something that I heard through the family in Savannah. See, my grandfather used to be a superior court judge. Growing up and visiting him at the courthouse during the summers was something that was “normal” to me. I mean it never occurred to me that everyone’s grandfather isn’t a judge.

 

As cool as that was, there was always the scary side of being a judge. Back in the 80s or 90s there were all those package bomb being sent to lawyers and judges, and a few of them were in the South. That’s why when a mysterious brown paper package showed up at my grandparents house some serious stuff was about to go down.

This box looked just like those described in the news reports. It even originated from the same area of the country. Not to take matters like this  lightly my grandfather called the police. That’s when things got interesting.

From what I have been told, my grandparent’s house looked like an episode of Cops. There were police in bomb squad suits, news crews lined the driveway. It looked like their house was ground zero for the highlight of the evening news’ top story.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It took hours for them to figure out what this diabolic package could be. The atmosphere was intense, and everyone was on edge. They might’ve even cleared the neighbors out just to be safe. This stuff was about to get real.

After hours and hours investigating the package, the bomb squad finally had an answer. Had the “bomb” been defused? Were they all going to have to run for cover?

At last, the bomb squad walked slowly to my grandfather with package in hand. They had figured out this dangerous mystery. The brown paper package placed in his hands, and he looked at it’s contents with horror on his face. He slowly turned to my grandmother to show her what lay before them. He took a deep breath and finally spoke. Between gritted teeth he said, “It’s your GOD DAMN Christmas bells.”

My grandmother had an affinity for holiday decorations that made noise. As a kid we always loved playing with them during the holidays, but this year those decorations caused an amount of ridiculousness that was even I couldn’t make up. To this day, this is the most memorable funny holiday story that I have growing up. I mean how can you have a story that can beat that. My life is definitely not interesting enough to beat it.

Happy Holidays from the Crunchy Frugalista family

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