Christmas With The Cullens

It was two weeks before Christmas, and Esme and the children were making their way towards the local mall.
“SANTASANTASANTASANTAAAAAAAAAAAA!”, they screamed, the entire time.
“Kids, PLEASE be quiet for mommy? I have a headache.” She said, fighting the urge to let go of the wheel to rub her temples.
“Okay!” they said, eager to make their mother happy, although it was a promise that would only last two minutes.
Emmett, suddenly bored, picked up the Barbie doll that had fallen near Jasper’s booster seat, whose head was slopped against the window, mouth open, drooling and snoring. With a slight TUG, the plastic Barbie head had popped right off.
Jasper’s head shot up. “EMMETT! YOU BROKE MY-IMEAN ROSALIE’S BAWBIE DOLL!”
Rosalie turned at the sound of her name. “That’s not mine.” She replied, eyeing the doll. All eyes stared at Jasper. (Except for Esme’s of course, who was mentally debating whether or not she should rip her kids to pieces. Maybe Santa could train them as elves…)
“HOLY COW! LOOK! A RAINDEER!” Jasper screamed, pointing at a random tree on the highway.
“WHERE? WHERE?” they cried, exited to play a new game. But Emmett was not interested.
“Pssst.” He poked Jasper’s shoulder.
“WHAT?”
“Cows aren’t holy.”
“Well guess what?”
“Oooh! What?” Emmett whispered, as if they were sharing secrets.
“Santa only gives presents to GOOD boys.”
“What happens to bad boys?”
“They get big dirty rocks while good boys get shiny toys.”
“How are you a bad boy?”
“Bad boys break people’s toys.”
“Am I a bad boy?”
“Did YOU break my toy?” Emmett’s eyes widened, realizing what he had done.
“Yes.” He whimpered.”
“Then you are a VERY bad boy.”
Poor Emmett then slammed his cheek against the wall mumbling “I am not a bad boy, I am not a bad boy,” over and over.


The large minivan maneuvered itself into a parking space, and Esme gathered her kids in a large group. Emmett still, still taking to himself, had lost his way, not paying attention. He ran into one of the random skimpy trees used to make parking lots pretty. (What are so pretty about parking lots again?)
“MOOOOOOMMMMMMY!!!!!!!!!!” He screamed, running back. “IT SCAWWWWWY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
With a gentle pat on the head, the Cullens walked inside, Eager to see the large fat man.

Ten feet later, the kids were enveloped in the excitement of red and green light, cheesy Christmas music, and those creepy dancing elves played by the retirement community because they are the only ones who would actually do the job.
And there, right behind the poorly decorated cardboard box, was the jolly old man, so fat, his hairy backwash peeped through the costume.
“SANTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The Cullens ran up to that long line of people.  In their haste, and excitement, they were just to do about anything to get on his lap.
“Back o’the line, kid!” Said a boy, about five years old said to Edward, with a finger poised ready to poke.
“MY SANTA!” Edward didn’t hesitate to beat the kid up. One flying punch, and he was on the floor. Unsatisfied, Edward gave him an atomic wedgie, pulling his Barbie underwear over his head.
“HAHAHAHA!!!!!!! Hey Jasper! This kid is just like you!!”


“HOHOHO!!!!!! What would you like for Christmas little one?” Surely Santa didn’t expect to hear this coming from such a TINY Alice. She took a deep a breath. “I want a ….bratzdoll,barbieconvertible-makesureitsHOTPINK,apurplesparklydress,prettyhighheelsthathannahmontanahwears……….necklaces,bracelets,iwishicouldhaveearrings,butmommywontletme,……….apuppy,abarbietalkinglaptob,thenewkidzbopcd-” Santa had had enough. (A/N me too! Typing without spaces is HARD!)
“Alright, little one, let others have their turn…” he handed her to Esme.
“BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WASN’T EVEN HALFWAY DONE!!!!!!!!!! SANTA!!!!”


Next was Bella. “HOHOHO!!!”, said Santa.
“Your breath smells.”
“Get down kid.”
But Bella wasn’t finished. “Do you take a shower?”
“Next!”
“YOU’RE A MEANIE SANTA!” Bella kicked Santa in the shin. “MOMMMMMYYYYYY!!!!!!!”

Rosalie.
“HOHOHO!!!!!!!MERRY CHRISTMAS!”
“Tell me I Pwetty.”
“Why don’t you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”
“TELL ME I PWETTY!!!!”

Emmett….. “Mooooooomyyyyy!!!!!!!!!”
“Now, now, sweetie, don’t be afraid….”
“Santa Will be mad at me!!!!!! I’M A BAAAAAAD BOOOOOY!!!!!!!!!1”
“No you’re not! Besides, Santa will still-“
“I DON’T WANNA!!!!!!!!!”
“Then-“
“I. DON’T. WANNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!”

“TAKE ME BACK TO SANTA!!!”
“THAT KID HIT ME!”
“GIMME BACK MY BAUBIE DWOLL!!”
“MEANIE SANTA!!!!!! I HATE YOU!!!”
“TELL ME I PWETTY!!!”


Esme had was done here.
“THAT’S IT!!! WE.ARE.GOING. HOME!”