@ 75
“Can you not make that noise? I can’t remember a peaceful night’s sleep for such a long time!” Santa grumbles at Anna. Anna is regretful about making that ugly grinding noise but couldn't help it; it was the only way to soothe her itching throat. Yet, she retorts, “Oh, is it? If you had known earlier, would you not have pestered me into marrying you?” “Okay now, you needn’t remind me of those ignorant days of my life,” replies Santa with mock irritation. Anna stares at the ceiling. There he was, casually tossing aside the very memory she had treasured and preserved for the past many decades. After all, it was he, the heartthrob of many girls she knew - who had proposed to her, not the other way around. If she couldn't boast about that now and then, what exactly had she earned from fifty years of marriage? Santa turns his head to the other side of the bed where there is absolute silence now. Seeing the crestfallen look on his dear wife's face, Santa feels apologetic for ha...