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.
I wouldn't.
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.
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