LET’S KEEP CHRIST IN “CHRIST, IS IT FUCKING CHRISTMAS ALREADY?”

Let’s not talk about how terrible I’ve become at blogging.  It’s late, and what’s done, or not done, is done, or not done.  Let’s just press on.

A bunch of snow fell out of the sky and now it’s winter.  I can feel doldrums doing their best to settle in, but this is no time to succumb to that sort of foolishness.  I need to get something, anything, done.  Dishes count!  As does signing up for free personal finance software, reorganizing a baby’s dresser, and drinking a highball of Dr. Pepper.  These are all things I’ve done tonight, and now I can retire to my downy bed with a song in my heart and an overall feeling of deep soul satisfaction.

I am angry at the clothes of my baby and wife.  Both look cute and respectable wearing the clothes.  Appearance is not the major malfunction here.  My hands cannot fold these clothes or shape them into anything that attractively and/or effectively fits into a drawer.  Their garments are miniscule and asymmetrical, and lend themselves only to wadding and tossing callously onto surfaces where they don’t belong or look good.  Sure my featureless tee-shirts and less than notable pants droop off my body like giant frayed loogies, but they fold quickly and easily into near-perfect squares that can be neatly stacked inside drawers or hung effortlessly from hangers.  Baby and lady clothes defy geometry and don’t listen to reason.  I will forthwith rend them to pieces.

It was sad about Leslie Nielsen dying, huh?  I don’t think any of us wanted that for him.

Look, here he is as jolly old St. Nick, pouring himself a nice glass of milk.  Boy, it really doesn’t get any cozier than that combination of elements, does it?  What could be better than Leslie Nielsen in a Santa outfit showing up at your house on Christmas Eve, tripping over presents, knocking over the tree, and setting himself ablaze?  There are certain sounds that if you think about them hard enough, you can actually hear them, and one of those is Leslie Nielsen saying “Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!”  Try it!  He was at least twice as good as Santa, and will be missed.

I will be telling my child that there is a Santa Claus.  I just know that I’ll do that.  I don’t care that it’s lying.  It will no doubt be but one of a legion of lies I impart to my son over the course of our time together.  My parents had me believing in Santa until about fifth grade, thanks to cynical rumblings on the playground paired with a sudden, hurtful realization that the whole thing plain doesn’t wash, with the flying reindeer and the obese senior citizen squoozing himself down a claustrophobic fire tube, tens of millions of them in one night.  It’s beyond bullshit, and it makes you wonder about your own sanity that you ever believed it at all.  Aside from the inherent deception, the inevitable conclusion to the Santa Claus experience quashes an amount of wide-eyed wonder equivalent to if not greater than the amount generated while you’re in the thick of buying it hook, line, and sinker.  Is it a bitter rite of passage disguised as a harmless holiday tradition?  An unintentional lesson of trust?  A cruel gag?  Simply a fun pastime that we naturally outgrow?  I remember the palpable Christmas Eve excitement all too well to deny my child the same.  I’m sure once he gets to kindergarten some dick-lick whose parents hate him will ruin the fun, but until then, I greatly look forward to the annual festive subterfuge that awaits our clan.  Not sure if I’ll bother with the Easter Bunny or not, though.  I don’t know about that guy.  And the Tooth Fairy…seems too easy to get caught lifting up the pillow, plus you gotta handle their tooth, which yuck.  My God, what an unbelievable and potentially saddening nightmare this is all turning out to be!  I think I’ll abandon my family tonight.  Toodles!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(My wife and I watched “Tooth Fairy” starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson for our third anniversary.  I teared up with emotion at a pivotal moment near the end.  I can’t in good conscience recommend it, but we were talking about tooth fairies and everything.  It seemed like a good opportunity to reintroduce cognizance of its existence to your brain.  Maybe you can set some time aside to think about it today, and reflect on why you haven’t treated yourself to a viewing.)

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One Response to “LET’S KEEP CHRIST IN “CHRIST, IS IT FUCKING CHRISTMAS ALREADY?””

  1. My wife had a coworker write Simone a reply letter from Santa in her very fancy, extra-special handwriting; which at first seemed like an impossibly cute and all around great idea. But yeah, in hindsight, not so much. Now my daughter has physical evidence to support her insane belief in an annual, magical, rotund, retrograde cat-burglar. Later in life (perhaps as soon as next year!) she’s going to have this fantasy dashed, and some very uncomfortable questions will follow for all concerned. I’m at a loss!

    Anyway, happy holidays to you and yours!

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