Editor's warning: This column is a lot longer than it looks.
"All right, sit down, please, children," says Uncle Willie, "and I will tell you a special Christmas story."
"What's special about it?" little Filbert wants to know.
"Filbert," says Uncle Willie, "have I told you that no one loves you and your parents - who really aren't your parents at all - are putting you up for sale immediately after the holidays?"
Filbert stumbles from the room as if shot.
Uncle Willie continues: "Now then. Once upon a time . . ."
Bonnie-Bob cuts in: "Eastern? Central? Mountain? Pacific? Daylight-saving? Standard?"
"Bonnie-Bob," says Uncle Willie, "Why would a reprehensible little girl like you want to know such things?"
"The voice on the TV always tells us about the time," cries Bonnie-Bob. "Why can't you?"
This is not going as Uncle Willie planned. He starts again.
"Children," he says in his most sing-songy voice, "please be quiet now and Uncle Willie will tell you a special New Year's story."
"I hope it turns out to be more special than the Christmas story," says little Filbert, recovered from his previous encounter with Willie.
"You may hope all you want," says Willie, "but hoping never put syrup on pancakes."
The children, in one voice, say, "Huh?"
"Oh, never you mind," says Uncle Willie. "Now do you want a New Year's story or not?"
"Uncle Willie?" asks tiny Rappahonnock, until now merely an observer.
"Yes, tiny Rappahonnock?" says Willie, in his most patient voice, which would have won very few prizes for patience.
"Uncle Willie," asks Rappa-honnock again, "if you don't tell us a New Year's story, do you have other categories from which children like us might choose?"
Uncle Willie sighs.
"How clever of you to ask, tiny Rappahonnock," he says. "As a matter of fact, I have a long list of story categories - from nuclear accidents to antique picture frames, from snowy June days to fork tricks. But I thought, since it is close to the winter holidays, you might want to hear something seasonal."
"I want a nuclear accident story," says Filbert, his arms covering his head to ward off any blows from Uncle Willie.
"And I'd be interested in a story about fork tricks," says Rappahonnock, who, though he got started late in this conversation, now seems to have taken command of it.
But cute little Rebecca (who's she?) tops them all. "Uncle Willie," she says, "you're a pretty smart dude. Couldn't you tell us a combination Christmas-New Year's story about nuclear accidents in which an antique picture frame is lost in the June snow while one of the characters is doing fork tricks?"
"Of course I could tell you such a story," says Uncle Willie. "And I could throw in references to NAFTA and health-care reform, too, if I wanted. But you children have wasted so much time that now there's time left only for a much briefer story about a nice man who tries to tell a room full of children - none of whom are his - a Christmas story."
"Oh, all right," says Rebecca, "tell us that one, then."
"All right, sit down, please, children," says Uncle Willie, "and Uncle Willie will tell you a special Christmas story."
"What's so special about it?" little Filbert wants to know.
(Dear reader: Please return to the paragraph near the top of this column that begins "Filbert," says Uncle Willie . . ." and you can keep yourself endlessly entertained. Or whatever.)