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The Attack of the Giant Reindeer

If you’re driving by my house or visiting during Christmas, you will see a giant ass reindeer in our drive way. Go ahead and laugh. I do every time I see it.

I nagged hubby since late November to put the Christmas decorations out on the front lawn. He has hundreds of dollars invested in Christmas blow-ups depicting Santa doing everything from playing in a band to riding an airboat through the Everglades.

There are tubs of outdoor decorations and lights in my shed.

About two weeks ago he finally went out on a Saturday and put them all up. Our entire lawn was lit up like a Christmas tree. It was beautiful. Neighbours slowed down when the drove by to let their kids get a good look at Santa Claus.

Then a snowstorm hit. The decorations are now buried under four feet of snow and ice. We’ll see them again sometime around Easter.

These blow-ups are just not made for Newfoundland winters.

I took my dog, Minnie, out for her after supper walk one night and noticed just about every house on our street was lit up except for ours. I went home and dragged more Christmas lights out and draped them over the snow-covered bushes.

But it wasn’t enough.

That night I was looking at Facebook and a guy was advertising reindeer made from logs. They were about two feet high and decorated with a red nose, black eyes, and antlers made from branches.

I thought, “This is perfect. I’ll put them by my front door and we can use them every year.”

I contacted the guy. We dickered back and forth over size and price. In the end, I order two, one a little bigger than the other (basically a mother and baby). They would be perfect for our front door.

The guy contacted me and asked if I wanted our name on the bigger one. I said, sure why not.

Early Friday morning he showed up at my door.

I had an appointment and was running late. My hair was still wet and I didn’t have time to talk to him. I told him to put the reindeer by the garage door and I would arrange them when I get home.

He asked me my husbands name and when I told him. He informed me that my husband and his friend were best friends growing up. So, he made me a bigger, special reindeer for Christmas.

Wonderful, I said. I gave him the money, closed the door and ran upstairs to dry my hair.

Minutes later I was running out the door to my appointment and went face first into a giant, freaking reindeer sitting in my driveway with its baby.

The ‘special’ reindeer is about five and a half feet high with “The Escott’s” painted in red across its belly. The baby is about two feet high. The mommy reindeer is almost the full length of my garage door.

My first thought was “Hubby is going to kill me!”

My second thought was to hide it.

Wearing three-inch heels, I put my shoulder into the arse of it. I tried to push it to the side of our house, but it wouldn’t move. Then I put it in a headlock and tried to drag it, but it still wouldn’t move. It weighs about a hundred pounds and its wooden legs were stuck in the ice on our driveway.

Then I thought I’ll find a rope and tie it around the neck of the reindeer and the other end around the hitch on the back of my truck and I’ll tow it to my neighbour’s yard before he got home from work. It will be like the Trojan Reindeer – a gift from Helen of Troy.

But our name was on it. So, I couldn’t do that.

Just as I was running through ideas on where to dispose of a reindeer carcass, my teenage daughter came out the front door, took one look at the giant reindeer with our name on it and said, “This is why I don’t invite my friends over!”

I had no choice but to leave the reindeer in the drive way while I ran to my appointment. By the time I got back hubby was already home from work. Luckily, he parks in the back driveway.

I sauntered into the front door like I had no clue where the giant ass reindeer came from.

“How was work?” I asked.

“Fine,” he responded.

“Anything interesting happen today?” I asked nonchalantly.

“No,” He responded.

“OK,” I say while leaving the room.

Just when I thought I got away with it…. “Helen why is there a giant ass reindeer in our drive way.”

“Oh, that reindeer?” I respond coolly. “It’s a gift from your best friend. He dropped it off today.”

“Why would he do that?” He asks.

“I don’t know. It’s Christmas so he gave you a gift.” I was blaming this on him like a pro.

“I’m going to call him. This got to be a joke.” He was on to me.

“NOOOO! Don’t call him. He’ll be upset if he finds out you don’t like it.”

“You ordered this didn’t you?” He wasn’t falling for it.

“I confess! But I thought it was only two feet high. The guy knew your best friend and decided to make me a bigger one.” I really was innocent in this.

We went out and tried to move our big ass reindeer. It took two of us to carry it. It’s too big to fit in front of our door. There’s too much snow on our lawn to put it there. So, it’s being left in our driveway.

It’s big enough to ride.

As a matter of fact, when we are not home, our friends drop by and take pictures

of themselves sitting on it. Then they text the pictures to me.

He’s there until Spring now. Where it goes after that I don’t know. Hubby says it’s fire wood as soon as the snow goes.

But I’m getting attached to him. Maybe I’ll put some rockers on the bottom of his wooden legs and he’ll be a big ass rockin’ reindeer.

I think this is a good case of “Beware of Baymen Bearing Gifts!”

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