Mr. Infinity's Infinity Keg

The anticipation we were feeling was almost too much to bear. The holiday season was upon us and that meant our respective employers would not only allow us to take a ridiculous amount of time off of work, but require it! And for us, that means purchasing the annual Christmas Keg! Nothing says "holidays" more than 16 gallons of beer to get you the inlaws and outlaws, a couple birthdays - you know Darin's and Eight Pound Six Ounce Baby Jesus - and of course, the daily required interaction with the children who are also required to be home for sixteen days...in a row.

The Christmas Keg began as it always does: unassuming and in its original casing. But each year, after a few days of having entirely too much time on his hands and the creative barley juices flowing through his brain, Mr. Infinity transforms it into something magical. This year would be no exception.

It didn't take long for the jolly goodness of the experience to take hold. First, it was announced - much like Royalty at a party, "The Christmas Keg has arrived!"

Friends Cheered!

And then, the grand celebration of Mr. Infinity came along and it was deemed "The Birthday Keg!" Once again, applause and jovial laughter.

Then, the guests came. With delight, they lined up to pour glass after glass from what was now "The Noonan Keg."

Finally, "The Dick Clark Keg" was enjoyed along with the last of the homemade caramels and toasted cinnamon almonds and it was time to return to reality.

Unfortunately, while last year's holiday keg of wonder had to be refilled, this one was apparently bottomless.

The Christmas decorations were put away for the season, the children went back to school, Mr. Infinity and I returned to our jobs and everyone resumed their roles of grouchy, slouchy, snappy, stabby and slightly slimy.

Day after day, night after night, the damned beer wearing its golf bag costume sat in the garage waiting to be embraced and celebrated once again. Suddenly, it decided it would take no more and *demanded* attention. It demanded it the way a petulant child would demand it. It stuck its little tripod foot out and tripped me. At 8:30 am, as I was trying to get to my car carrying my usual items of purse, cell phone, lunch, keys, paperwork, (all individually I might add. I'm not ever sharp enough at that hour to use something like, say a bag) the heel of my boot was attacked and down it went. Suddenly, "The Pay Attention to Me Keg" was ready to party. The beer was pouring onto the garage floor at record speed as if I were going to drop everything and start lapping it up. Oh yeah, bring it on "Weekday Morning Party Keg!"

It reminded me of more than one drunk friend as I lifted it back into its upright position. I asked, "Are you going to fall over? Please don't fall over again..just stay here like this..." I couldn't find it's tripod foot. It had lost something vital but didn't even care, just like most drunks who lose important things such as their purses or a heel on their shoe. Of course, everyone cares the next day, but not at that very blurry moment of alcohol induced apathy.

I felt a little sorry for it as I watched the garage door come down. I was also slightly concerned it may act up and think it was capable of one more party while I was gone, but I had to get to work. Sadly, upon arriving home, I found that the once "Life of the Party Keg" had become a mere shell of itself. The "Eyesore Keg"remains out on the deck covered with a tragic 1970's blanket which managed to find its way to Idaho during Mr. Infinity's fantastic Hillbilly Training with the boy last Fall. Let this be a lesson to future holiday kegs: Get drunk before the party is over.