you better watch out

The Christmas decorations came out of the basement yesterday, and wham! my kids threw it into high gear.  They love playing with the Christmas stuff so much I sometimes consider just keeping it out all year, although I do think it’s the limited-time-only appearance of the “Little People Christmas Parade” that makes it so appealing in the first place.  It’s sort of like the Shamrock Shake, which McDonald’s only sells a few weeks a year with what The Week calls “calculated enigma.”  That may be a new parenting strategy for me: calculated enigma. I’ll keep you posted.


Anyway, I LOVE Christmas myself, so I can only blame myself for the kids’ frenzied anticipation. It’s not even December for another two days, and I have three Ed Grimleys jumping on the furniture. 


 


Connor and Maggie are what my husband calls “sprinters,” meaning they will use up all this frantic energy by the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and be exhausted and cranky by the time Christmas morning actually arrives. Seamus is more measured with his energy, but even he was running to the bus stop this morning singing at the top of his lungs, improvising a ribald, unholy version of his favorite Christmas carol:


OH, YOU BETTER NOT WATCH OUT!
YOU BETTER CRY!
YOU BETTER POUT!
I’M TELLING YOU WHY!
SANTA CLAUS IS NOT COMING TO TOWN!


His older brother was slightly shocked. “You shouldn’t say that!” he demurred. “Santa could be listening.”


“Mm-hmm,” Maggie said, arranging her thumbs in her mittens. “Dat’s naughty, and naughty means kids who get NOTHING.”



Connor, on the other hand, is trying extra hard to be “holy,” which I guess is from all the CCD classes he’s been taking. I think he’s hoping that “holy” puts you on some sort of Super-Nice List. Sometimes his efforts backfire, though. 


Case in point: he and Seamus were arranging the Fisher-Price Nativity Set, Christmas Parade, and Christmas Village into one uber-arrangement.  

SEAMUS: This is the Christmas float. And Santa’s going to be on it.

CONNOR: No! Not Santa!

SEAMUS: Why not?

Connor gave his younger brother a most patient, pious stare. He could almost feel his halo sprouting atop his head.

CONNOR: Because Baby Jesus is the most important part of Christmas. Baby Jesus is why there IS Christmas. So Baby Jesus gets to ride on top of the float on the Christmas parade.

That’s my boy! The real meaning of Christmas: the Macy’s Newborns-at-Dangerous-Heights Christmas Parade! Mary would be so proud. 

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