This article originally appeared in the War on Christmas Issue.


Alright, I’m gonna be straight with you.  She didn’t technically get hit by a reindeer.  She got run over by a tractor on the way to her Thursday evening sewing club. And it wasn’t because she had “too much eggnog,” unless you count the horse tranquilizer I put in her eggnog.

But this whole grandma episode is honestly the last thing on my mind ever since my wife left with the kids. Fuck you, Meaghan. So what your husband has an earlobe fetish. I obviously wasn’t attracted to my own kids’ earlobes. They’re basically just like mine which I can look at anytime I want.

I would’ve been fine if she just took Molly and Jack, but Kevin too? The other two were snot-nosed little shits. At least Kevin can throw a fucking spiral and isn’t ugly. I can only hope that if I cry enough about my grandmother’s “accident” the judge will give me visitation rights.

Kevin, if you’re reading this, just know that I love you and I will tear you from your mother’s hawklike talons with my bare hands if I have to. I’ll see you at Christmas, buddy, but know that since your mom took all my money, and granny left me nothing but a concerningly large collection of Jesus figurines and $15,000 in cash, I won’t be able to buy you that new Xbox. Daddy needs all the coke money he can get.


—A. Kane