Cast
- Dexter (aka Demolition Derpy): part dog, part vacuum, part unsolved catastrophe
- My wife: a heroic artisan fueled by determination and the false belief that “it’ll be fine for a minute”
- Two six-year-old twins: innocent citizens of Christmas Town
- Two gingerbread houses: gone but never forgotten
- Cat food dishes: somehow always involved in Dexter’s lore
My wife spent seven hours building Christmas parade floats for our twins’ school.
Seven. Hours.
Not “threw it together real quick” hours. I mean craft-montage hours. The kind where you start with a vision and end with hot glue on your soul.
Each float featured:
- the kids’ favorite toys wearing Santa hats
- miscellaneous arts and crafts supplies (the official currency of parenting)
- a gingerbread house for each float, because my wife is apparently the CEO of Christmas
They were beautiful. Wholesome. Magical. The kind of project that makes you think, maybe we’re one of those families. The Pinterest ones.
Then reality cleared its throat.
At some point, my wife went to remove the cat food dishes from our bathtub so we could store them safely. Because yes, they were in the bathtub, because yes, Dexter likes to eat the cat food, because yes, we are living in Dexter’s world and we’re just trying to keep up.
This took — generously — a short amount of time. A brief intermission. A blink. A “I’ll just be right back.”
In that time, Dexter committed what can only be described as a precision holiday operation.
No barking.
No crashing.
No dramatic struggle.
Just quiet, efficient criminality.
When we returned…
Dexter had eaten both gingerbread houses.
Not “took a bite.”
Not “licked the frosting.”
Not “chewed one corner like a naughty toddler.”
No. He ate two entire gingerbread houses off two separate floats — meaning this dog moved with purpose. This wasn’t opportunistic snacking.
This was a coordinated demolition.
Evidence of Intent
Let’s be clear: Dexter did not accidentally eat two gingerbread houses. He had to:
- approach Float A
- remove Gingerbread House A
- consume it with the speed of a wood chipper
- relocate to Float B
- remove Gingerbread House B
- consume it while presumably maintaining eye contact with the concept of joy
That’s not “oops.” That’s career-level sabotage.
The Aftermath
My wife, seven hours deep into Holiday Excellence, returns to find:
- two floats now featuring an inexplicable gingerbread vacancy
- a dog who looks like he just won a contest called “Who Can Ruin Christmas Fastest”
- and the haunting realization that we are not equipped for the legal system Dexter operates under
Dexter’s expression, as always, suggested he was not remorseful — just mildly curious why we were interrupting his post-heist digestion.
Official Conclusion
The floats were not destroyed. They were re-themed.
Originally: Christmas Parade Floats.
Now: A Cautionary Tale About Leaving Joy Within Reach of Demolition Derpy.
Episode rating: 10/10
Hours of work defeated: 7
Time required for Dexter to erase it: approximately cat-food-bathtub minutes
Lessons learned: none. We will learn none. Dexter will see to that.