Holidays… You Can Dress Them Up… But They Still Call the Shots


I am starting to realize that life is cyclical. You experience holidays as a child and they blow your mind. Trick or Treating, waiting for Santa, trying to catch leprechauns, or catch a glimpse of that sneaky Easter Bunny (if you observe other holidays with creatures that lurk, insert them here)… holidays as a child are fun. As you grow older, holidays start to become more about sentiment, spending time with loved ones, creating memories, etc. (Yes, some holidays have religious traditions that are honored… but you kind of honor those beliefs throughout life… so I’m going to just talk about the fictitious characters and presents.)

As an adult, even though holidays are still special and might give you a warm and fuzzy feeling (unless you hate holidays, don’t enjoy being around your family, and are an otherwise miserable person), they just seem to lack that luster they once had during your childhood. Where has all of the mystery, the imagination, the magic gone? It is hiding in your reproductive organs.

That’s right ladies and gentlemen, once those babies start popping out… ┬áthe holidays become alive again. Sure, in our child’s first year or two of life, we will force holidays upon them… dress them up, drag them around demanding candy from the neighbors… haul them around to visit aunts that pinch cheeks, uncles that slip them some cash, grandparents that feed them sugar fried chocolate bars, and a variety of other guests that make your child know they are beyond loved and adored… and letting you, the parent, know that your child can do no wrong in their presence… and there are no rules.

I imagine that after the first couple years, Munchie will start calling the shots… choosing his own costumes, not letting me eat all of his Halloween candy, taking a fat marker to the Toys R Us Big Book of Toys, tell his aunts he is too old for pinching, ask his uncle for another dollar, and let his grandparents know that he would also like ice cream on that sugar fried chocolate bar… but for now… I call the shots. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts. But even though we call the shots… they can still ruin ever possible photo we take of them being forced into our crazy ideas of tradition. You can dress them up, but you can’t make them smile. (Though sometimes their tears of disagreement just make for serious laughs!)

Guest photo starring Munchie’s friend Jack and his Mommy Mickey.

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