National Lampoon's Christmas at the Antkowiaks

Bran and I will be having Christmas by ourselves in Moscow, then we're flying to Maryland on the 28th to see our families. Because we're having our first Christmas with just the two of us, Mom and I have been talking about family traditions and how much fun it is to make your own.

Well, today we had something happen which makes me pray that we don't have a National Lampoon's Christmas.

It all started yesterday afternoon when Jen, Rachel and I came home from Bucers. We walked in the front door, and Tyler immediately says "Don't freak out. There is a squirrel in the fire place, but I've got it under control." So, being the adventurous girls that we are, we all went over to look at the squirrel. So Ty moved the magazine rack (he had put it in front of the fireplace to make sure the squirrel didn't get out - part of his "under control" scheme), and there was nothing there! Ty immediately assured the girls that the squirrel must have climbed back out the chimney (which isn't possible, I'm pretty sure). As soon as the girls were downstairs, he looked at me with a flash of fear in his eyes and said "It must be in the house. Oh crap." And then he went and got a plate with peanut butter on it and put it on the floor. I'm not sure what that was supposed to do.

The night went on, I went to work and came home, and no one had seen any signs of the squirrel, so, I thought, maybe it did somehow get out.

Then, this morning, we all left at 4am to take Ty, Kenny, and some other folks to the airport. When we got home, I was the first one to go inside, and as soon as I opened the door, I saw something shoot across the living room floor and behind the couch. "Good thing Ty had the squirrel under control" I thought. It was about 8:30 and Bran had to work at 9, so we spent the next half hour trying to corner it and force it out the front door, get it with the broom and throw it out the front door, etc., until it finally decided that it liked our artificial christmas tree and refused to be shaken from its branches. At this point Bran was really needing to be leaving for work, and I was tired from the early morning, so he got his BB gun and proceeded to shoot it several times without getting it out. This is amazing, since it was at point-blank range, and Bran is an amazing shot from super far away (as in, he was the best when we all went to the mountain in Oregon and shot clay pigeons with shotguns). So he decided it was time to bring out the big guns. I'm not sure what the other gun was, but he pumped it a lot, which made me concerned for our walls, and then shot the squirrel a bunch more until it fell out of the tree onto my cute silver tree skirt.

A little blood got on the skirt, so Bran threw it in the washer for me. He reassured me, saying "if it doesn't come out clean, we're still keeping it - this will make a great conversation starter."


The confrontation with the squirrel was much like this:
*caution - there's some language.