Cheeto La Frito Strikes Back 

 

 

On the sixth day of Christmas, 
my true love sent to me 
Six geese a-laying, 
Five golden rings, 
Four calling birds, 
Three French hens, 
Two turtle doves, 
And a partridge in a pear tree.

When we were kids my little brother nicknamed me Cheeto La Frito .

It was a burden and everyone called me by that stupid name for years- family members, friends, the mailman and even a few teachers. My brother had convinced so many people I liked that name that it would have taken me fifty years to convince them it wasn’t true.

So I didn’t even try- I just lived with that stupid name.

But that’s okay because since my Christening at age 6 of my trademark infringing nick name my little brother’s hairline has receded and he drives a fuel efficient car ( I drive a Boss Jeep ) so revenge may have been slow but at least my hands are clean.

I mean, by nature I’m just not into the vengeance thing.

But I do have a taste for it and it’s true- revenge is sweet and I know that for a fact because I got my first taste on the Christmas just after I turned 11.

Most of the kids I grew up with participated in the ‘let’s peek at our Christmas Present Olympics’.

Leave a package on the car seat, an unwrapped gift peeking out from under a bed and the little Commandos I grew up with would be in and out of the Christmas present hiding place with stealth and efficiency that would have any branch of any armed forces anywhere in the world on their knees in fear and envy.

My little brother however had them all beat.

One Christmas my Parents restorted to putting a padlock on their bedroom door- and they also put a lock on the closet door AND they double wrapped the presents too- first in brown paper and then with Christmas paper.

Ha.

My brother not only figured out where they hid the keys he came out of that room with a list- you read that right- a complete list of Christmas presents and who they were intended for.

He waited until they went out on Christmas Eve and then he pulled out the list and proceeded to destroy me and our little Sister’s Christmas.

He did that every darned year.

So on that Christmas Morning ( as with the many before )  we opened our presents and gave our Oscar Winning ” gee what a neat surprise ” Christmas Performances and then I proceeded to pinch my little brother every single chance I got for the rest of Christmas Vacation.

The next year I was ready- I plotted and planned and I could hardly wait until our parents started their Christmas shopping.

I was walking around the house with little bells on my shoelaces and singing Christmas carols and I even helped my Dad put tinsel on the tree which was something I refused to do because my Dad believed that tinsel had to be hung on the tree one freaking strand at a time.

I used to hide in my tree house- sometimes in the snow- in order to escape the dreaded tree trimming.

But not this year.

I’d already figure the keys to the locks never left the house- and I’d figured they were near their bedroom because he and Mom would head down the hall, I’d hear them stop for a minute and then their door would open.

So one day I go take a look and on top of a bookshelf under a ceramic Santa-

were the keys.

That’s when my Merry Christmas began.

I spent the rest of the week I’m taking my Brother’s presents out of the closet after our Parents wrapped them and I start stashing them in my own closet. 

My Mom caught me at it and when she asked what I was doing I looked up at her and said…

” nothing.”

She looked at the packages, saw who they were for and told me they had better be back in her room on Christmas Eve them and she walked away.

Just  like that.

I gave up a couple of Christmas parties and a sleepover at my friend’s house just so I could hang around the hall that led into my parents bedroom waiting for the day my Brother would sneak down the hall and reach up towards that ceramic Santa…

And one day it paid off.

My brother sneaks down the hall and into our Parent’s room and then he comes out and leaves the door open and drops the keys on the floor and as he walks by I say, ‘what’d you get?”

” Drop dead Cheeto.”

Now, it’s not like he could go and ask our Parents why he wasn’t getting any presents- so it must have been a LOOONNNGGG three days till Christmas.

Well of course he had presents on Christmas morning and me and my Sister were really surprised and that night when my brother busted the eggs in my shoes and decapitated my Barbie Dolls ( I hated those things anyway ) I didn’t get angry- I didn’t yell or pinch or tie him to a tree.

I was just feeling to good to be mad -I was feeling happy and satisfied and the sweetness swam around on my tongue like sugar from a Pixie Stick

Years later I can put a name on the taste that I would one day know as the sweet taste of revenge.

It’s Cheetos

and the taste is very sweet.

Happy Holidays.

Only 7 more days until I reach

The Inner Circle of Hell

CHRISTMAS.