It’s true that fall just arrived but I found myself thinking about Christmas two weeks ago all because of a case of COVID-19 that made its uninvited way into the Peeper house.

One of my all-time favorite movies to watch each year is the 1983 comedy film “A Christmas Story.” The movie tells the story of young Ralphie Parker’s dream that Santa Claus will bring him a Red Ryder BB gun.

My family never misses watching it either on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.

One of the scenes that always makes me laugh is when the Bumpus Hounds break into the Parker’s house on Christmas Day and devour the family’s turkey in a matter of seconds, leaving Ralphie, his brother and their parents speechless and dumbstruck. 

“The heavenly aroma still hung heavy in the house but it was gone — all gone,” says Ralphie’s character as the family looks at the mess in front of their eyes.

“No turkey. No turkey sandwiches. No turkey salad. No turkey gravy. No turkey hash. No turkey a la king or gallons of turkey soup. Gone. All gone.”

That scene replayed in my head during Street Fair week, as I could smell in my head the heavenly aroma of deep-fried fair food.

Actually tasting some of those Street Fair delicacies, however, wasn’t meant to be much like the Parker family lost their Christmas dinner to a pack of dogs.

The week started well but my wife soon started feeling ill. She had COVID-19 symptoms, and our at-home test soon revealed she had the virus again — her second time this year catching it. She took a second test to confirm; it came back positive just as quickly as the first one.

The following day, I wasn’t feeling well either. My test wasn’t positive but my symptoms were bad enough that making a trip to the fair wasn’t going to happen this year. 

At that moment, the gravity of the situation hit me the same way it struck the Parker family moments after the Bumpus Hounds devoured their Christmas turkey. 

No fried chicken sandwich. No greasy French fries covered in ketchup. No pancakes with syrup drizzled on top from the 4-H booth. No ice cream cones or milkshakes. No elephant ears or lemon shake-ups. No bags of caramel corn or cotton candy. No cheesy mozzarella sticks with extra marinara sauce on the side. Nothing. Zilch. 

By the time we started feeling better, Street Fair was down to its last hours. While we didn’t make it to the fair, we were wise enough to follow Ralphie’s father’s lead from the movie once the shock of the hounds having eaten their dinner wears off.

In the movie, Ralphie’s dad (better known as The Old Man) says, “All right. Everybody upstairs. Get dressed. We are going out to eat.”

While we didn’t have a Christmas dinner at a Chinese restaurant like the Parker family in the movie, we ordered carry out from our favorite Indian food restaurant while Street Fair was wrapping up Saturday night.

My order of chicken tikka masala, rice and garlic naan was a tasty substitute for Street Fair gastronomy — and probably a bit less expensive and better for my cholesterol and waistline. 

jdpeeper2@hotmail.com