Tis the season

Killer purred contentedly.  Her ample proportions filled her new kitty bed completely, and lulled to sleep with visions of feckless vermin running through her head (and considerable catnip coursing through her system) she managed a tidy fifteen hours of bliss a day.
Mr. Hall glanced over his shoulder at her behind the couch and adjusted his pillows.  Mrs. Hall had given him the complete series of "Frasier" on DVD for his birthday, and even with all the disciplined rationing he could muster, he still seemed to be devouring the episodes like peanuts.  There were thirteen episodes to a season and he was on the third season already.  "What gets me, " Mr. Hall muttered, as he settled in comfortably with his soda and snacky chips within reach for the fourth show that afternoon, "is how that cat can just lay there for hours in the same position, day after day."  Mrs. Hall opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.
Birthdays come but once a year, and although Mr. Hall had insisted on no fuss, no party, no cake- Mrs. Hall knew there had to be at least a smidgen of pomp and ceremony.  She promptly came up with a solution.  "Make a wish, darling, and blow out the candle!" said Mrs. Hall.   "I've already got my wish," he said, smiling. "Erick's coming out this weekend for a visit and I can hardly wait to see him!"

Mr. Hall's son Erick came in on the late flight from Seattle Friday evening.  Pestering him for any news from the homefront and plying him with considerable homemade chili until late into the night, they finally let the poor fellow lie down and get some rest.
The next morning an unseasonable overcast marred an otherwise beautiful day as the little band trotted out to check out some of the suburban hotspots.  Erick was familiar with the highlights of the Strip, but the outlying areas had seen significant growth since his last visit, and the Halls enjoyed playing tourguides to the outer rim diversions.  After a brief stop at Tivoli, they ended up at the sports book at the recently renovated Red Rock Casino; the boys checking the spread on some basketball games, Mrs. Hall perfecting her trifecta skills.
 A lively dinner at their favorite mexican restaurant, washed down with a few pitchers of margaritas to celebrate their winnings and the weekend seemed rounded out very nicely indeed.
Time always seems to fly by in a blur when company comes, remarked Mr. Hall sadly, as he ferried his son back to the airport Sunday morning. "At least you're leaving with a profit- I always think that's the best way to vacation."  Hugs were served all around, and Erick sped off back to work.

 Mr. Hall settled down into his favorite spot on the couch and queued up another "Frasier" episode.  He looked over at his empty glass and turned to Killer.  "Oh, don't get up- I'll get it."  Killer emitted a low yawn, rearranged herself on the couch and covered her head with her paw.