1-11:Christmas Crackers

‘Carol,’ she sighed in the manner of someone who knew she’d be keeping drug companies in business for the rest of her life.

‘Ah,’ said Donnie, unsure of what the problem was with that particular name.

‘It’s spelled with a K. And a U. Two ‘L’s’ and an H,’ she gave him a look that said don’t even go there.

‘Carol with a K,’ mused Donnie. ‘K like Ketamine?’

‘What’s that?’ she asked, happy not to get the usual idiotic questions about her name, and sat on his knee.

‘Horse Tranquilizer. Want some?’ Donnie rummaged through a pocket. ‘Might help you out with your brother.’

‘What’s it for?’

‘People take it to get high. It’s called Special K.’

She giggled slightly, smiling for the first time in what was possibly a lifetime.

‘I think my parents were high when they decided on my name,’ she said, and sighed once more. ‘They thought it would make me an interesting and unique person if they spelled my name in a way that it wasn’t supposed to be.’

‘Uh-huh,’ said Donnie in his best noncommittal psychologist voice. He nodded slowly for effect.

‘I don’t know why they didn’t just call me ‘Hit Me’.’

Ouch, thought Donnie.

‘What also doesn’t help is that every Christmas they announce that it was this time of the year that they got frisky and conceived me.’

‘Oh. Joy,’ said Donnie, trying to imagine the feeling but his imagination wasn’t that good.

‘You have no idea how embarrassing it is to be told that every year. In front of every single relative.’

‘Yes?’

She nodded, tight-lipped.

Donnie took a deep breath and thought for a moment. ‘You know what you need for Christmas?’

‘To be orphaned?’