Now that I have children, I can identify with the Christmas story.
No, I'm not talking about the nativity, the "reason for the season."
I'm talking about A Christmas Story...
... with the leg lamp and a little boy who just wants a Red Ryder BB gun but instead gets all sorts of torture...like visiting Santa.
What is it about this holiday that makes perfectly sane people go bonkers?
I witnessed a woman attempting to coax a smile from her terrified child in Santa's lap by dancing around with a stuffed reindeer and jingle bells. I couldn't tell which the child feared more--the big fuzzy man in red or the antics of his mother. Her husband didn't participate, but he still looked like he'd claim her.
Those who know me know that my family is not the kind that's at church every time the doors are open. So, when my son asked if we should make a cake since Christmas is a birthday party for Jesus, I thought maybe we're doing something right.
Then again, maybe he just wants cake.