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The best thing about my brother and I living together is that there's always a kid around the house who I can play with. Toys, games, stories, watching movies or TV shows, snuggle-times in bed, or just chilling out and feeding him whatever I can find in the pantry.
The worst thing about my brother and I living together is that there's always a kid around the house.
Like when you're chilling on the couch, dozing off because you were stupid and stayed up all night, and you hear a thumping noise upstairs...
I was busy thinking about how much my life has changed in the past six months, when I hear a heavy panting, and then footsteps coming down the stairs and into the living-room. I twist around on the couch and laugh as my nephew Roland waddles into view.
Rollo's only seven years old, but he's already massively overweight - not that his father or I really care about that stuff. We think it's cute, even if 'cute' means he's already well over 300lbs. I think he was 325 the last time I weighed him.
I chuckle as he plonks his way down the stairs, taking them slowly, one step at a time, partially from how winded he is, and partially because he can't even see his own feet anymore! Every step makes his belly and rolls jiggle and bounce, and his moobs jostle from side to side as he follows each step with another. He huffs and pants cutely, and I can't help but grin at him.
"You OK there, Tubby? C'mere!" I call out to him, a big grin on my face. He giggles and waddles over, his whole body quivering and wobbling. As he gets closer, I notice that somehow, he's managed to cram himself into a red and white set of Christmas pajamas that he looks like he outgrew 150lbs ago. They're red with white borders and cutesy pictures of Christmas trees and giftboxes and candy-canes and Christmas puddings all over them. They're stretched so tight over him they look almost spraypainted on. Jeez!
I reach out and tickle his huge belly and Rollo giggles!
"Hehe! C'mere, you! Let Uncle Benji get a look at you. My fat little baby nephew!"
"I'm not a baby anymore!" he pouts, but I smile and give his exposed fat-rolls a playful squeeze.
"Lil' fatass!" I tease him. I tug on the pajama-top to try and cover his belly, but it's stretched to bursting!
"Yeah, yeah, sure...OK...no problem..."
My brother, Eddie, waddles out of his home-office on his phone, clearly absent-minded. "OK fine...OK...sure, bye..."
I look up from the couch where Roland has sat down next to me, enjoying my attention.
"What's up?" I ask him.
"Nothing...it's fine. Just stuff I gotta sort out before next weekend", he says. "Y'know, the party..."
I nod. "Right, right...party..."
Eddie and a bunch of his high-flying Hollywood scriptwriter types are holding some kind of charity gala at a hotel just outside of town next weekend. Y'know. Christmas fundraiser gig. He's been fussing over it since October. All this for one event for half a day...
"But daaaad!" Roland huffs, "You said you'd take me to the mall today!"
Eddie sighs, "I know son, I know, but I gotta..."
His phone rings again, "Sonnova...hello!?"
He looks at his son with a sad, apologetic look in his eyes, and hurries away. "What do you mean they can't?"
"Tell you what", I say, wrapping an arm around Roland, "How's about you and me head out to the mall, huh? I'm not doin' nothin', and we can take our time!"
"Really?"
"Sure! Why not?"
"Aww!...Thanks Uncle Benji!"
I smile, and smack his fat ass, "Gawn and get dressed!"
He waddles upstairs, huffing and grunting on every step. I can hear him thumping around in his bedroom, looking for clothes.
"Sorry about this, bro", said Eddie, coming back out with a pen and a notepad, "These damn caterers, man..."
"I'll take Rollo to the mall", I say, getting up and heading to get all my stuff, "It'll be fun. Him and me against the world!"
Eddie nodded, "Yeah sure", he says. He's been so busy lately in the leadup to Christmas he's spent hardly any time with his kid, which is kinda sad, especially when poor ol' Roland only has the two of us in the world for him after his mother died.
"He'll be FINE", I say, "You deal with your thing, and we'll see you later!"
Roland comes waddling back downstairs again, stuffed into a set of grey sweatpants, sneakers, a plain, white T-shirt, and a matching grey hoodie.
"OK I'm ready!" he says, stuffing a few things into his pockets and waddling towards the front door.
I grin at Eddie and then Roland and I head out to the car together. As Roland waddles, I notice how much he fills out his grey flannel sweatpants and hoodie, and just chuckle.
"You look super cute, kiddo", I tease him, "Absolutely adorable. C'mon, hop in!"
I get into the front seat of my truck and watch as Roland scrambles in the passenger side. I start the engine and turn out onto the road. I'm halfway to the corner when I hear...
"Uncle Benji..."
"Mmm?"
"I'm hungry!"
"Didn't you already eat breakfast?"
"That was four hours ago!" he whines. "I'm hungry now!"
I chuckle, "What do you want?"
"Can't we have a snack or lunch or..."
"I figured we'd eat at the mall".
"But that's after we shop and walk and look at stuff...I'm hungry now!"
I grin, "Alright, Tubbo. What do you want?"
"Can we get some McDonalds?"
"What do you want?"
"A Big Mac Meal! Please?"
"I dunno, aren't you getting a little fat...?"
"You said you LIKE me fat!"
"Eeehh..."
"Pleeeaaase Uncle Benji?...I love you...!"
I sigh.
"Aaah cripes...stupid kid...alright! But this is our little secret, OK? You don't tell your dad about us. What I'm about to do - NEVER happened, OK?"
He nods eagerly. I swing the car around and drive towards the nearest McDonalds. We roll through the drive-thru, and I order up five Big Mac Meals. One for me, and four for the blob in the passenger seat. Roland squeals in excitement when he realises how much his uncle is gonna spoil him, and he blushes.
"Thaaaanks Uncle Benji..."
"Don't spill nothin', finish ALL OF IT, and don't you dare tell your dad this happened", I say firmly, "Understand, kid?"
He nods.
Good kid.
Roland never ever tells. He knows he'll miss his feeding privileges if he whaps his yap, and that's always kept our little secret safe.
I keep driving, munching away at fries and my burger at stoplights. To my right, I can hear Roland stuffing his face, muffled by the loud rustling of several paper bags. He's tipping all his fries into one bag and stuffing his face with his burgers, clearly saving the fries for last. By the time we reach the mall, all four burgers have somehow vanished, and he's left with just one massive bulging bag of fries.
"OK kiddo, let's head inside!" I say, parking near the entrance. As we walk, I can hear Roland's bag of fries rustling and crinkling. He stuffs handfuls of fries into his mouth, salty crumbs scattering in the wind. As we enter, he unzips his hoodie, letting his massive belly bulge outwards. His T-shirt underneath stretches and bulges under the curve of his gut. It's only now that I notice the T-shirt has a slogan on it in huge, black letters.
"GOBBLE 'TIL I WOBBLE".
I laugh! "Nice...subtle. I like it..."
Roland pretends not to notice as he continues to munch down his fries.
We head towards the nearest kids' clothing store I can find, and amble on in, Roland still stuffing his face with fries.
"Hi! Can I h—" a girl begins, but she freezes when she spots Roland waddling in behind me, his cheeks bulging with junkfood, his belly round and full.
"Hey honey", I tell her, "Listen, we're lookin' for kids' PJs. Y'know, themed ones, with Christmas stuff on it?"
"Huh?" she asks, a little stunned, "You want...oh! Ye-yeah p-pajamas are...pajamas are out the back..." she points to the back wall of the shop.
"Thanks! C'mon, Tubby!" I tell Roland, steering him in that direction with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"W-what are you searching for?" the girl asks. She hurries after us, clearly stunned about Roland's enormous size.
"Christmas PJs for Tubby here", I tease, ruffling his hair, "Ain't that right kid?"
Roland nods, his chins jiggling.
"What's the biggest size you got?"
"Uh...w-we go up to...up to XXL...?" she suggested, hopefully, or perhaps fearfully.
"Great, we'll ta—"
"Uncle Benji, I want these!"
I turn to see Roland waddle up to a stack of boys' PJs. One's red, one's green, with alternating collars and cuffs. They're both covered in pictures of Christmas food! One is all candy-canes, Christmas puddings, shortbread, gingerbread, hot chocolate and yule logs. The other one is festooned with roast ham, mince pies, stuffing, sausages and turkey. I chuckle.
"Trust the fat kid to go for food, right?" I whisper to the girl, who seems appalled at the joke.
"Sure buddy!" I tell him, "Two of these in extra-EXTRA-large, hon".
"Y-yessir!" she says, seemingly desperate to get away from Roland as he waddles curiously around the store, his fat ass jiggling and swaying with every step. I watch him absent-mindedly when my phone rings.
"Hell—oh, hey Eddie! What's up?"
"Where are you guys?"
"We're at the mall, getting Roland his new clothes, why?"
"Great! We got a bit of a...um...oh never mind! Listen, Barry's sick, he can't do the thing!"
"Who's Barry, what's he sick with, and what thing can't he do?"
"I TOLD--"
"Dude, this is YOUR party, I'm just a guest! I don't know shit!"
Eddie groans.
"He's supposed to be playing Santa! But him and his family just called me. He's got appendicitis and he's going in for surgery tomorrow. He'll need a week to rest, and he can't do the party for us anymore!"
"Yeah, so?"
"So I need someone else to play Santa for the Christmas benefit dinner, and I was--"
"Ohh no! I love you, bro, and you're good to me, but I ain't playin' no Santy Claus!"
"Not YOU!! I've been calling around. Nobody else is available and nobody else can fit into Barry's suit!..."
"...Suit?"
"HIS SANTA SUIT!! Keep up dude!! Anyway, I told him that I'd get Roland to play it! He'd love to do it!"
"The party's next weekend isn't it?"
"Yes!!" Eddie huffs, "Listen, I just need Roland to agree to play Santa! Could you put him on?"
"Uh, yeah...hold on...Rollo!"
I look around the shop.
"ROLLO!" I call out. Roland comes waddling into view, huffing and panting and holding some sickeningly cute stuffed-toy of some variety.
"Yeah Uncle Benji?"
"Your dad's on the phone. I think he wants you".
"Oh!" says Roland, panting and breathless, "OK!...C-can we get this?"
He holds up a plushie of a fat, grey and white bunny-rabbit.
"Yeah I guess...here..."
Roland takes the phone. "Hey papa!...yeah!...oh...but what...awww...but I wanted...oh!...OK!...but how do I...OK...OK!"
Roland turns around, "Daddy wants you".
"Hello?"
"Hey bro. Roland says he'll do it. Listen, I'm gonna pick up Barry's Santa-suit. I gotta take in the legs and arms a few inches, but that's OK. I know someone who can do that for me. In the meantime, I want you to stuff Roland until he bursts!"
"What??"
"he's gotta be fat enough to play Santa, or that suit's gonna look like a joke on him!"
"I'm sure there's kids' suits..."
"He won't fit into those, and we got some VERY big people comin' to this benefit. I want it to be good! So start feeding!"
"OK, OK..."
"You got two weeks to fatten him up".
I laugh, "No problem, bro. I'll see you later".
I hang up and turn to Roland, "So kid, you wanna play Santa?"
"Yeah, OK", says Roland, "Daddy says I gotta eat tho..."
"Yeah", I tell him, "We got two weeks to make you even FATTER than you already are, huh! How'dja like that?"
Just then, the girl appears from the back room, holding the pajamas. Her jaw drops when she hears the last words. Roland giggles and belches!!
"C'mon, let's get your new PJs, and then we'll take you to the food-court. This way, Lardo!"
I waddle his fat ass up to the counter, pay for the stuff, and then we leave.
"Where's the food-court?" I ask the girl, "Gotta fatten this hog up like a Christmas goose!"
She stares at me, appalled, and looks at Roland with a mix of shock and wonder.
"But how much does he we—" she blurts out before she can stop herself, "I...I mean!...it's...you go out and turn right!" she says.
"Uncle Benji, I'm hot!"
Roland tugs off his hoodie and hands it to me. I stuff it into my satchel and zip it up. Free from his outer layers, Roland's obesity is even now more obvious than ever, especially his "GOBBLE 'TIL I WOBBLE" T-shirt. I chuckle.
"Thanks hon. OK champ, let's go!" I call out, giving Roland a playful smack on his fat ass. Roland waddles away, his huge lovehandles wobbling with every heaving step.
As we head towards the food-court, I notice one of those public weighing-scales. You know, the type you put a coin into and it'll weigh you. I shuffle Roland towards it, drop in a quarter, and get him up on the platform. It creaks and wobbles a bit, and I hold his shoulder as the readout flashes.
"339lbs", says the ticket that spits out underneath the flashing digital display.
Heh. Cool!
Once we reach the food-court, I sit Roland down at a corner booth, and head off to get food. Before long I'm back with four triple-stack bacon cheeseburgers with fries...four jumbo-dogs with all the toppings...six burritos...a bucket of chicken nuggets and a tub of mashed potatoes drowning in gravy...and a huge plate of spaghetti and meatballs. I can see Roland's eyes growing wider and wider with each delivery, his face getting more and more excited!
"Eat up, Lardo!" I tell him firmly, "Your papa wants you fattened up for Santa, and you're gonna do it! Understand me?"
Roland nods eagerly and starts stuffing his face! I sit back with a club sandwich and fries, and watch him inhaling the burgers and fries.
"Fanks...Uckle...Bengee!!" Roland struggles out, around a mouthful of nuggets drenched in barbecue sauce.
"You can eat whatever you want, but don't choke on nothin'!" I warn him.
My phone rings.
"Ben Rym—"
"Hey bro. How's our little project going?"
"Project?"
"Operation Santa Claus..."
"Oh...it's uh...it's progressing..."
I watch Roland cram down the last burger and move onto the hotdogs.
"Good, good...I'm ordering pizza and chicken nuggets for dinner. Tell Roland if he's a good boy and eats all his lunch, he'll have another feast for dinner!"
"Hehe...sure thing, bro. Y'know this is kinda fun...usually it's impossible to get kids to eat anything..."
Eddie grunts in agreement. "I'll see you in a few hours".
After lunch, I feed Roland dessert. Cake, tarts, ice cream, pudding, donuts...whatever I can find at the food-court. People stare at me in disgust, but I just smile at them and keep going. By the time we're done almost three hours later, Roland is so stuffed he can hardly breathe! He needs my help to squeeze out of the booth and he leans on me, wheezing and gasping as he waddles towards the exit, his belly hanging out the bottom of his T-shirt, which is now splattered in sauce, sugar, syrup, melted ice-cream, crumbs and grease. Every few steps he pauses to let out a massive BEEELLLRRRCHHH!! That echoes around the whole building, and I finally get him out into the parking-lot.
On the way home I stop for more junkfood to stuff into him, and by the time we get home, it's getting well into late-afternoon. Eddie's busy putting pizzas on the coffee table in the living room.
"Hey champ!" he says when Roland struggles through the front door, "Hungry?" Roland's greedy eyes light up at the pizza and nuggets! He nods eagerly and waddles forwards, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of the TV. Eddie turns on cartoons and leaves the kid to it.
"Finish it all and I've got a special surprise for you in the kitchen later on..."
Just as I expected, Roland's eyes light up and he giggles excitedly. He continues eating the pizza, totally ignoring everything else around him.
By the time it's time for bed that night, Roland is stuffed so full he can hardly breathe. His belly's so round and bloated he can't even stand up straight and the slightest movement makes him nauseous and dizzy. I help him waddle upstairs to bed and put on his new XXL pajamas. Despite the size, they do nothing to hide the rotund evidence of his shameless gluttony. I rub his belly and he belches heavily!
"Does that hurt?" I ask, as I tuck him in. He shakes his head. I keep rubbing and he groans like a dying wildebeest. He pants and struggles as he climbs into bed, and rolls onto his side. I kneel by the bed, rubbing his belly and fat-rolls, kissing him softly on the cheek.
"Shhh..." I whisper. Every squeeze and massage makes him whimper and gasp, followed by even more belching. I chuckle. I give him a another playful butt-spank and get up to leave.
"Uncle Benji..."
"Mmm?"
"Y...you think...I...I can really...be...URRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPHH!!...fat enough...t...to play Santa?" he asks, and groans again.
I chuckle, "By the time we're done with you, boy, you will be".
"Urgh..." he groans, shifts his huge butt, and then grabs hold of his plushie before dozing off. I give him a squeeze, a kiss on the cheek, and then I sneak out, and close the door.
By next Friday, Roland had gorged himself to stupendous proportions. On Wednesday, Eddie returned from the tailor's shop with the altered Santa suit. Barry wasn't much bigger than Roland, so the outfit only needed a few alterations, but once we got Roland to try it on, it was clear that perhaps we'd all gone a little overboard on the feeding.
"Ow!" Roland squeaked, when I started doing up the hidden buttons at the front of the Santa jacket, which were covered in the white, fluffy fake ermine lining. "That's tight!"
"Good!" I tell him, "You wanna look fat for the camera!" I tease, rubbing his belly. In a little under two weeks, Roland had stacked on so much weight that he was now almost 380lbs!
He hiccups as I do up the belt at the front. It's already on the last notch.
"OK!" said Eddie, handing Roland the fluffy red and white Santa hat, "Pop it on and let's see how you look!"
Roland puts the cap on his head and stands by the staircase in the living room. Eddie chuckles.
"Perfect!" he says, "We won't bother with the beard, but the rest of it looks great!"
"How's it feel?" I ask.
"Tight..." says Roland, and Eddie chuckles, "Good!"
"Stand together and I'll take a photo", I say. Roland grins and sits down. Eddie wraps his arms around his son and gives him a kiss as I snap several photos of them together, and even more of Roland on his own. Wow that suit really IS tight. It barely fits him.
Roland waddles forwards, the black rubber, Wellington-style boots on his feet squeaking and rubbing on the floor.
"Are we ready to go?" he asks.
"Yeah!" I say, "We'll head to the hotel, we'll do the gift-giving and all that, and the photos and stuff, and then it's time for the dinner! You think you'll be OK wearing this all night?"
"I like it!" says Roland, "It's all soft and fluffy!" he says, giggling.
"Hold on!" says Eddie, as we head to the door, "Before we go, I have something else..."
He hurries away and comes back with something HUGE and red!
"What the hell..." I say.
"It's Santa's toy sack!" he says, "I got my tailor friend to make it for me while he was adjusting the suit. It's made from a whole heap of old pillowcases that we dyed red, and then sewed together. Pretty cool, huh? Look, it's even got the furry white lining and a drawstring rope on it!"
"It's empty!" Roland huffs, waving the sack around.
"We'll fill it up at the party. C'mon, we're gonna be late! This way, Santa!"
We head out to the car and Roland huffs his way into the back seat, along wit the empty sack.
"You OK back there?" I call out.
"It's a tight fit!"
I adjust my seat and look in the rear-view mirror. Roland is almost bursting out of Barry's old Santa suit. Eddie starts the engine and we take off. As we drive, Roland starts asking us about who's going to be at the party and if any of his friends will be there, and how much food there's going to be, and what happens to the presents. Every jolt and rumble of the journey makes his belly wobble and jiggle now that he's got nearly 60 more pounds on him. I chuckle as he squirms to try and stay comfortable.
"Almost there, buddy".
By the time we arrive, Roland's fast asleep in the back seat.
"Wake up!" I tell him, as we pull into the parking lot near the hotel. We head inside with Roland waddling eagerly forwards. Eddie meets some friends, who are there with their wives or husbands, and some have brought their kids along. Roland squeaks excitedly and waves at them, proud of his new Santa suit!
"Awww he looks AD-ORABLE!!" says one of Eddie's friends, a lady name Charlene, "Awww I HAVE to take photos of him! Is that OK?"
"Just a minute Charlie, we gotta get Santa inside and fill his sack up with all the presents", says Eddie, "C'mon Kiddo! This way!"
We enter the ballroom that we've rented from the Melton Hotel for this occasion, and my jaw drops at the buffet, the tables, the stage, and in one corner, a huge snowy landscape with fake cottages, Christmas trees, and what looks like a throne with red cushions and tinsel and baubles festooned all over it.
"This is where YOU sit!" says Eddie, grinning. Roland waddles up to the throne and climbs on, his huge butt barely fitting into the seat as he rolls around to get comfortable. He giggles.
"Aww! Very cute, kiddo", I say, snapping photos, "Smile!"
"So what do I do!?" he asks.
"It's easy", Eddie says, kneeling down and smiling at his son, "We'll fill up the sack with presents and bring it out into the ballroom. Once everybody's here, we'll announce that everybody's getting a gift for coming to the charity dinner and giving so generously, and in return, Santa has gifts for them! You come out from another room looking all fat and cute! You sit in the chair, hand out the gifts, and wish everybody a Merry Christmas!"
"What if I get hungry?" Roland asked, predictably.
"After the gifts are handed out, it's dinner time, and you can eat as much of whatever you like", I tell him firmly. Roland immediately perks up!
As people start arriving and taking their seats, I hurry Roland out of the ballroom and into a back corridor which leads to the kitchens and bathrooms.
"Here", I tell him, opening the satchel I carry around with me whenever I go out, "I sneaked you in some extra nibbles, just in case...I wasn't sure which one you'd like more, so I bought both of them..."
I hand over two cardboard boxes full of cookies! Shortbread, and gingerbread.
"Oh boy!! Thanks Uncle Benji!" he squeaks.
"Go on! Eat 'em! You won't be getting anything else until after the speeches and gift-giving, so you might as well have it now".
Roland nods, sits down on a bench in the corridor, and starts chomping away.
"Mmm!! Gingerbread's good Uncle B!" he says. I smile and rub his belly. Wow, that Santa-suit really IS getting tight!
In the ballroom beyond, I can hear speeches, applause, cheers, and then...
"Oh! I think Santa's just arrived! We've got gifts for all our generous donors tonight, so please, when your name's called out, come forth and receive your gift! Santa!...Saaaanta Claus!" I hear Eddie call out.
"That's us! C'mon, Kiddo!" I hiss. I help Roland to his feet, and he waddles out into the ballroom. People gasp and wave. A few people whisper and take photos.
"Wave!" I whisper to him, and Roland waves at everybody, smiling. I guide him over to the chair and shove him into it. In my hand is the sack of presents. One by one we call out the names and people come forward to get them. Among them are a few kids, who all giggle and point at Roland, and quite a few stop to get photos taken. Their parents pose them in front of the chair and I help them take pictures.
"Gosh he's so FAT!" one of the mothers whispers, "What do they feed him..."
"He's the perfect kid for Santa, that's for sure..." one of the dads whispers back.
"Can he even walk?"
"That suit looks TIGHT!"
One by one, the gifts are handed out, and the sack eventually empties.
"Thanks!" says Eddie, who is apparently acting as the M.C., for the evening. "Dinner is now served! Help yourselves to the buffets around the room!"
Roland jumps off the throne and waddles over to me. "Did I do good, Uncle Benji?"
"You were amazing, kiddo! Go on, get something to eat!"
As Roland waddles away, I watch people snapping pictures of him. More than a few of the party-guests stop to take photos with him and pose beside or behind him. Some kids - the children of Eddie's colleagues and friends, hurry up to Roland, curious to meet the huge blob of a boy who easily outweighs any one of them by at least 200lbs! I can't help but grin at their stunned, fascinated, curious faces.
"I think he's a hit", I whisper at Eddie, when he comes to collect us to sit down at his table. Roland follows along behind me carrying a plate overflowing with Christmas food - mince pies, sausages, pudding with custard, ham and cranberry sauce, and slices of roast turkey.
"Mmmm!!" he moans, as he stuffs his face the moment he sits down. "Can I do this next year too, daddy?" he asks.
"Sure son", his father says. "I'm sure we'll be able to do it every year, for as long as you like".
"Yay!!"
After mince pies and sausages and pudding, Roland waddles back for more. Shortbread and gingerbread, sticky-date pudding with butterscotch sauce, chocolate cake with ice-cream, and every other possible dessert. I laugh at his eagerness while the other kids stare at him with a mix of envy, shock, and disgust. Between plates, he continues to get up for photos and videos as people crowd around him to take pictures.
By the time we're ready to go home, it's almost midnight. All three of us are stuffed to the gills, and Roland's so full he can barely walk. I chuckle and guide him out to the car and help him into the back seat, where he falls asleep almost at once. On the ride home, I do some small-talk with Eddie, and we agree to make this whole thing of dressing Roland up as Santa a new annual tradition for as long as we can. Apparently, all his friends loved the idea, so we might as well have some fun with it.
When we get back home, Roland is so exhausted he can barely walk. Either that, or he's so stuffed he's just put on another ten pounds!...I honestly can't decide. Either way, I lead him inside and he waddles sleepily upstairs. He's so tired he can barely stand.
He heads across the landing and pushes open his bedroom door.
"G'night b--"
"WOAH!!"
I turn around and laugh! Woah, indeed...
The entirety of Roland's bed is COVERED with food! Mince pies, chocolates, candy-canes, gingerbread and shortbread, all his favourite Christmas treats!
"Woooow..." Roland gasps.
"What's going on?" Eddie asks, coming up the stairs, "Did you h--woah!"
We enter the room. The bed is literally overflowing with sweets. They're spilling onto the floor and everything!
Then I spot something on the nightstand - it's a red and white envelope with a big, gold seal on it.
"What's this?"
Roland grabs the envelope and tugs it open.
"Dear Roland,
Thank you so much for your faithful and wonderful homage to the spirit of Christmas! Charity, generosity, comforts, plenty, and indulgence! It's also so rare to see larger, more fully-formed children willing to play the part! For your wonderful and heartfelt efforts, a small treat to show my appreciation! Something to keep you full and tide you over between Christmas celebrations...
S. Claus.
P.S.: I will return on Christmas Eve to deliver your actual presents!"
Roland blushes deeply. Eddie chuckles.
"See kiddo? Told you if you're a good boy, good things happen to you".
"Can I eat them now!?"
"No, son. Change and go to bed, but you can have as many as you want when you get up".
Roland pouts, but goes to change his clothes and brush his teeth, anyway. I head downstairs to bed and hear Eddie cross the landing to his bedroom.
As I get ready to sleep, I can hear footsteps. That's when I remember that Roland's bedroom is right above my own. As I lay in bed, I can hear the ripping of cardboard and the rustling of paper, followed by a muffled crunching noise.
I laugh. He's eating the cookies. Little pig! I get up from bed and creep upstairs. Eddie's fast asleep in the master bedroom, so I sneak down the corridor and push open Roland's bedroom door.
"Psst!"
Roland squeaks and spins around, spilling a plate of cookies all over the floor!
"It's not—" he begins.
"Shh!! You'll wake up your dad!" I hiss. I close the door and creep across to his bed and sit down on it.
"You want me to feed you?"
Roland nods. I sit in his bed and get him to relax on my legs and lap, and with one hand, I start feeding him cookies, while rubbing his belly with the other. Roland moans.
"I like this..." he said, between bites.
"Awww..."
I give him a kiss on the head.
"I love you, Uncle Benji..."
"Love you too, Rollo".
"Uncle Benji...?"
"Mmm?"
"Merry Christmas..."
"Awww...muah! Merry Christmas too, buddy...c'mon, open up, now..."
THE END