Strong Eggnog

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It was a cold night; the type where you snuggle up in your fleece pajamas, in the fetal position, shivering yourself to sleep. The wind is whistling through the windows, the trees tapping the glass over and over again. Sleep eludes you.
As you finally drift off, a loud thump awakens you. You shiver because you realize the room is draftier than it was before. You pull the comforter close around your neck. You are too cold to get up and turn the fireplace back on.
You find yourself nodding off again as you cuddle into the nape of your husband’s back. You hope the body heat gives you some warmth. Finding that it does, you inch even closer. Your eyelids are heavy as you smile sweetly into your pillow. The thump startles you awake again.
Your heart is racing. You make sure your body is completely covered in the blankets as if they will protect you from harm. Logic knows they won’t stop anything from happening, but somehow, they make you feel safer.
You strain your ears to try and figure out what it was that you heard. The dog’s barking makes you nervous. You, as slowly and quietly as you can, nudge your husband, hoping to wake him up. It doesn’t work. You hear another thump, this time it’s closer. It sounds like it’s in the house.
You decide to be brave. You have no idea where that came from as your heart is racing. You bite your bottom lip and bolt out of the door. Perhaps you are in mom mode because you realize there are children in the house. You grab the 9mm that you hide in the hallway and creep down the stairs quietly.
As you clear the landing you come face to face with… an animal? What in the world? The dog is losing its mind. You question what your husband put in the eggnog. There is a freaking 8 foot dear standing eye to eye with you.
You hear a noise coming from the living room. You realize there’s an intruder in the home. You glance past the giant deer to see Santa Claus bent under the tree. You wipe your eyes and question how strong the rum actually was. You remind yourself that it was only one glass.
You give up. You turn around shaking your head and slowly, dizzily walk back up the stairs. You place the gun where it belongs and close your bedroom door quietly.
“Everything okay?” Your husband asks.
“I think so.” You answer. He looks at you confused.
“What was that noise?” He asks. Silently you wonder if he heard it, why didn’t he go check things out, however, you resist the urge to tell him that.
“It was just Santa Claus down stairs. There’s a reindeer down there with him.” You answer honestly.
“That’s nice.” He yawns. Together the two of you go back to sleep.

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