Breaking the Wishbone

Now, Ernie, you should know that in this family it is customary to break the wishbone after Christmas dinner. Last year your cousin Bertram did it, and you’re the next in line. So why don’t you step onto the platform and perform the ceremony before your relatives start getting testy?

Don’t give me that sass, young man. It must be done because it’s tradition and traditions are meant to be kept. So there.

Yes, you have to do the wishbone dance as well. Of course you have to do the legendary wishbone dance of our forefathers before you break the wishbone. It wouldn’t be an official Carlsen Family Wishbone Breaking Ceremony without the Carlsen Family Wish Dance of the Bones, now would it?

Of course it wouldn’t! That was a rhetorical question. Now get dancing.

What do you mean you don’t know the steps? Haven’t you been practicing?

No one told you to practice? Weren’t you listening to me when I told you to practice last Thursday?

What do you mean you weren’t home last Thursday?

After school tutoring? Who the devil signed you up for that?

Well, I certainly don’t recall you failing math last year, but I believe you. Anyway, I know I told someone to practice dancing last Thursday, I just can’t remember who.

Oh no. I think I told your brother Melvin to practice dancing instead! And you know how Melvin gets when I tell him to do something. That boy is dedicated to a fault.

Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen the boy since last Thursday. I think I’ll have your mother check on him.

Cynthia!

Cynthia, would you please go check on Melvin. I think he might be in his room practicing the Wishbone Dance.

Yes, I know it’s Ernie’s turn to dance! You don’t have to tell me that. Please just go find our son and make sure he hasn’t danced himself to death.

Why I never! Such obscenities. It was a simple mistake, woman. You don’t have to get all up in arms about it. I’m sure Melvin’s fine!

That’s okay, honey. No apologies necessary. Just make sure our Melvin is okay.

Now, Ernie, I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly: Do you think you can do the Wishbone Dance even though you haven’t practiced it yet? Yes or no?

Don’t worry. I won’t be mad if you say no. Just answer the question, please.

What do you mean, no? How can you be so sure that you can’t do it? Haven’t you seen your cousins do it in years past? Can’t you do it from memory?

You mean to tell me that you enjoy playing with your new toys more than watching the Wishbone Dance?

Good God, what is wrong with this new generation? In my day, we loved the Wishbone Dance. We lived for the Wishbone Dance. I remember feeling so honored when it was my time to perform this glorious ceremony. What an honor! What a privilege! What a–

Oh, Cynthia, you’re back. What news on our sweet Melvin?

What do you mean his legs won’t stop moving? How can that be?

Happy feet? That’s not even a real medical condition!

Well if Dr. Ferguson says so, then I guess it must be true. Is there a cure?

No. God no. No child of mine is going to have to constantly dance for the rest of his life. We’ll find a cure…. But for now, do you think you could bring him out to do the Wishbone Ceremony. Our little Ernie here is about as hopeless as they come.

I am not taking advantage of our son’s illness! These are desperate times, my sweet Cynthia. If one of our children does not get up on that platform in the next ten minutes we’ll have a full-scale Carlsen family uprising on our hands. These people are so full of holiday angst that they will erupt without the rhythmic Wishbone Dance there to calm their nerves. We cannot let that happen. Remember the last time it happened, Cynthia. Remember ‘89?

I know. I shudder thinking of it too. So just bring out our poor Melvin and we can avert this crisis. It will only be five minutes. Then we can get him the medical attention he needs.

I know it was supposed to be Ernie, but he doesn’t know the moves. Hopefully, they won’t notice. Hopefully, they haven’t looked too closely at the schedule.

I know it’s a risk, but it’s the only chance we’ve got. Let’s pray it works.

I love you too, babe.

Okay, Ernie. You’re mother’s going to get your brother. I need you to go into the living room and tell everyone that the Wishbone Dance will begin momentarily. Can you do that for me, boy?

Good boy.

Good God, Marvin. Look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Why couldn’t you have just told the right child to practice dancing in the first place? Then you wouldn’t be in this mess. The boy doesn’t even seem to like the dance. Heck, I don’t even know if I like it anymore. I don’t even remember why we do it. When did this tradition even start, and when did it lose its magic?

For heaven’s sake, Jesus wasn’t born to save a wishbone.

Ernie, you’re back! What’s wrong? Where are your relatives?

Asleep?

All of them?

What time is it? Let me see the schedule.

Ernie, my boy! What a lucky break! They’ve bumped the Wishbone Dance entirely and replaced it with an extended nap time! They must have voted to make the change at the last board meeting, which I had to miss. But why did no one tell me? No matter. Just wait until your mother hears about this!

Cynthia! You’ll never believe the most glorious news I have to tell you! Everything’s okay because Ernie doesn’t have to do the Wishbone Dance anymore! Isn’t that glorious?

Oh, yes. Melvin still has the happy feet.

I suppose this means I’m still in the dog house, eh?

I guess I’ll pull the car around and sleep on the couch for the next two weeks.

Nice dance moves, Melvin.