A very Mötley Christmas

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The boys have been on tour with Ozzy Osbourne the past eleven or so months. I missed Mick and Vince, but they both called the second they found a phone booth. It was hard to go without talking them sometimes, but I get that it is part of their job.

Today was weird. They hadn't called last night. Isaiah was crying about how his uncle and "new daddy", his words not mine, didn't want him anymore.

I picked up the seven year old, "baby, you need to worry about the here and now. Vinnie and Mickey probably got busy in the studio or something."

I then started to worry internally. I never showed my child I was worried because that would make him worry. It was almost Christmas which was bad enough, because they would be on tour and Vince wouldn't be here for Leo's first Christmas being able to open his gifts himself.

Mick didn't really care about holidays, but he made an effort last year for me and Isaiah. I love Christmas. It was the one day a year our family actually acted like a family. I even carried on the stocking traditions my dad started when we were babies. For a baby you put a new onesie in the toe. For toddlers you put balls. For children five and up you put an apple or orange.

I looked at Isaiah, "let's go Christmas shopping. Let Kiri and Leo sleep. I need to get something for Mickey and Vinnie. Also Nikki and Tommy. They are always so hard to shop for."

He said a soft okay and I passed him through the window. I set him on his feet and told him to move so I could climb out. He did as told and I crawled out the window. I grabbed Isaiah's hand and we started walking to the local shops on the sunset strip.

"Mommy!! Can we get daddy a new guitar pick? Something that will have meaning and won't just collect dust?"

I smile at my son, "of course baby. He'll have a piece of us every time we can't make it to a show."

He smiled more and nodded. I saw a guitar shop and went in. I walked up to the cash register and the guy behind it eyes me up and down with a smirk.

"What can I get ya, pretty Lady?"

"I'm sorry, I'm taken. I'm sure you're aware of the rising band, Mötley Crüe. My brother is the lead singer and my boyfriend is one of the members."

"Uh huh, sure. Anyways, you going to buy something or just waste my time?"

"Yes actually. Do you offer custom engravings?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I would like a custom engraving on a pick for my boyfriend." I looked at him dead in the eye.

He grumbled under his breathe. The store manager walked up wearing a Mötley Crüe shirt.

"What is going here?" She asked looking pissed at her employee.

"This guy is hitting on me in front of my son. I'm Analyse Wharton, professionally known as Marnie Neil."

"I have had enough of this crap, Kyle. You're fired. Collect your stuff and leave." She told him sternly. "I'll help you from here on out. I'm Cami, how may I help you?" She asked nicely.

"I'd like a custom engraving on a black and white guitar pick."

I picked up my son and placed him on my hip. He's a bit heavy, but I don't really care at the moment. He hates standing too long. Not to mention this was his idea so I want his help on what it says.

"What do you want Mickey's pick to say, baby?"

He tapped his chin in thought. He probably learned that from me. Then his face lit up, "we love you. With a heart and our names!" His voice was so excited. He was really proud of his idea.

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