A Very Merry Mooch-mas

A Very Merry Mooch-mas

Hannah, leveret-at-heart, loved Crittermess lots. But her old, cynical soul had gotten too many hard knocks. Her leveret side found the festivities pleasing, but the other one disliked it so for a reason:

“Every mammal can spend it with whosoever he chooses...Except for me, ‘cause I wish to spend it with muses!” Indeed, every year, her wish was the same, and every year it was dashed, with obligations to blame: Sam and Sir Horse were working, or Johnny had much to do in the way of family gatherings and such. So whenever her treasured muses were busy, the poor hare was left in a befuddling tizzy.

Hannah called the covetous part of herself ‘The Mooch’ because sightings of muses were rare-- enough that she’d have to ask her friends and neighbors if they had any scoop they could share! And sometimes this info was all she had—no quality time, which made Hannah quite sad.

So what was a poor little snowshoe, with no relatives in the city, to do on Crittermess but sit alone and cry for herself out of pity? “I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t want to impose!” she whimpered, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

When the phone rang, she stopped sniveling, looked up, and changed the whole course of the story when she beamed at the name on the caller I.D. and exclaimed in surprise, “Hey! It’s Lory!”

~

“Hi, Lory-Love!”

“Hi, Hannah.” He sounded nervous. “I was hoping you wouldn’t pick up the phone.” Stung, Hannah took a deep breath, reminding herself that this was Lory she was talking to...he must have a good reason for saying such a thing.

“You don’t need to be nervous around me,” she reassured him.

“I know. That, um, came out wrong.”

“Good, because I’m having a lousy day.”

“On your favorite day of the year? Why?”

“I’m all by myself.”

“Hmmm...That’s a hard balance to strike on Crittermess, isn’t it?” She smiled, knowing that Lory valued solitude as much as she did...But there were times when having loved ones around was much better.

“Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m going to hang up, and call right back. But whatever you do, don’t pick up the phone.” It was her turn to be confused.

“Okay, but…?”

“I’ll explain everything in a few minutes. ‘Bye, Hannah.”

“‘Bye, Lory-Love.” She hung up the phone and slouched in her seat.

When it rang—and rang, and rang—again a few minutes later, she barely budged. Then, the answering machine came on:

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome! You’ve reached Hannah’s voicemail. She’s not available right now, but she’ll get back to you as soon as possible. In the meantime, have a magical day!”

It was Lory…!

“Ugh, maybe I should’ve tried a few more takes.” And there he was again, critiquing himself! “Anyway...I’ll be over in a few minutes. Merry Crittermess, Hannah. I love you.”

This time, she didn’t even consider sniveling...She flat-out bawled, happy tears streaming down her face and making her fur a matted mess. But she didn’t care. Because not only did Lory record an amazing greeting on her answering machine, but he also left a voicemail—saying he loved her. “It’s a Crittermess miracle!” laughed Hannah through her tears.

When Lory arrived at her door, she enveloped him in a heartfelt hug. “Does this mean you like your present?” he asked hopefully.

“Which one?” she answered with a smile, adding, “I love them both...because I love you.”

“Oh—well...” he replied with an adorable modest grin, “You don’t do what I do for a living and not realize that words matter.” Hannah didn’t think her gift could possibly top his, but that statement gave her hope.

“I’ve never heard of these books before,” said Lory, sitting amidst the discarded wrappings.

“They’re called, ‘It’s Not A Fairy Tale’", Hannah told him, her excitement mounting. “Remember how you said you wanted to yell at Goofy more often? Well, the narrator yells at these guys because they take the story in the wrong direction...and they talk back.”

“So what you’ve given me is a veritable vocal playground, in word form.” His face lit up, and Hannah nodded, smitten. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a fellow artist,” he added, making Hannah blush. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Can we read one, please?”

“With pleasure.”

And so, they spent that memorable Crittermess evening curled up on Hannah’s couch, conspiring to make the story as ridiculous as possible. Hannah felt it was the merriest, most mirth-filled Crittermess she’d ever had.