Santa Claus in April

“Honey, get the bat,” Eve whispered, shaking her husband awake in their bed.

“Huh, what’s going on.” Jake rubbed his eyes.

“There is someone downstairs.”

Jake threw the blanket off and rolled out of bed. He grabbed the Louisville Slugger that was leaning against the window sill and left the room. Jake peeked downstairs to see a red butt sticking out his fireplace, legs trying to push his fat body up.