Uncle Albert Learns a Lesson
My Uncle Albert is stingier than Scrooge.
I’m surprised that he doesn’t charge the birds for landing in his trees. I suspect that if he could ever find a way, he would.
I visit my uncle four times a year: once in the spring for Easter, once in the summer for his birthday, once in the fall for Thanksgiving and once in the winter for Christmas. I don’t enjoy these visits, but I feel a sense of duty as his only nephew. These visits always end up costing me more than a vacation to Disneyland – but without any of the fun.
For instance, when I was a little boy, Uncle Albert used to invite me to his mansion for an Easter Egg Hunt. Every year I would hunt under bushes and behind trees for Easter eggs, and every year Uncle Albert would charge me $1.00 for every egg that I found. Then to top it all off, he used to take my eggs and scramble them for his breakfast.
Last summer, he charged me $6.00 for clean sheets for my bed, saying that sheets don’t just wash themselves. He also charged me $5.00 just to go outside and look at the stars in the sky. He argued that they were over HIS house, and if a planetarium could charge people money to look at the stars, then so could he.
At Thanksgiving, I had to pay for my meal just as if I was at a restaurant. He charged me $7.00 for a plate of turkey and an extra $4.00 for stuffing and gravy. I won’t even tell you how much he charged for a piece of pumpkin pie. I am thankful that I only have to be ‘thankful’ once a year!
So what happened this Christmas did not really come as any surprise.
It was bitterly cold when I arrived at Uncle Albert’s house on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t wait to get inside to warm up – except that when I got inside it felt like I was still out in the bitter cold. I don’t know what Uncle Albert does with all the money that I give to him, but I know that he doesn’t spend any of it to heat his house!
So I kept my coat and hat on as I joined Uncle Albert for dinner in the dinning room. Uncle Albert, who normally shuffled so slowly that a pack of snails could overtake him, scuttled faster than a crab to sit down on the only chair at the table.
“Uncle Albert,” I asked, “where am I supposed to sit? There is only one chair.”
“You can choose one of those,” he said, as he waved his cane in the direction of the back wall. I glanced around and saw two chairs with rental prices tagged to their seats. I expected to pay for my meal – but I didn’t expect that I would have to rent a chair to sit on!
One of the chairs was rock hard (which wasn’t surprising since it was made out of rocks!) It was a bargain for $10.00. The second chair looked comfortable, but it would cost me a whopping $32.00. Sighing, I took out my wallet and paid the bill.
Dinner was a repeat of Thanksgiving, except that instead of pumpkin pie I had to buy fruitcake. The fruitcake was stale – probably leftover from Christmas dinner 50 years ago. I didn’t dare ask for a glass of eggnog to wash it down.
I didn’t have long to enjoy the fruitcake (or the comfortable chair) before Uncle Albert invited me to the parlour to play a game of cards. He charged me a $3.50 rental fee for using his cards, and when I told him that I was running out of money, he replied that if I was so bothered I should have brought my own. Of course that didn’t stop him from beating me at every game – and from collecting his ‘winnings’.
After the card game, I went straight to bed. I couldn’t afford to stay up. This time I was smart and had brought my own sheets. But when Uncle Albert saw that, he just charged me for using his mattress.
It took me awhile to settle down on the lumpy bed. As I was just starting to drift off to sleep, I heard a loud commotion outside. I rushed to the window and saw Uncle Albert talking with Santa. Would you believe that Uncle Albert was trying to sell carrots to Santa for his reindeer?!
I joined them outside just in time to hear what Santa said to my uncle as he handed him his gift.
Santa said, “Since you love money so much, I am giving you a bank.”
Without even a thank you, Uncle Albert grabbed the present and stuffed all of his money inside the bank.
Santa then gave me a little box. Chuckling, he said, “I think that you have earned this gift.”
I opened the box and found the key to my uncle’s bank. By the time that it took my uncle to realize that I had the key that he needed, Santa had taken off in his sleigh.
My uncle turned to me and said, in a falsely sweet voice, “My favourite nephew, would you give me that key?”
Smiling, I replied, “Of course I will – for a price!”
Santa was right. I had earned this gift!
© 2008, Maureen Yorke.