We here at Slydesblog are trying very damn hard to put ourselves in the “Holiday Spirit”.
Like most of you, some of the fondest memories of my life stem from Christmases long past.
I remember as a kid, having tons of family over on Christmas Eve, and getting present after present. It was always a fun, magical night, and the best part of it was going to bed that night, knowing that when I next opened my eyes, I would run into my parent’s room to wake them up at the crack of dawn, and race into the living room to see what Santa had left me.
I’m sure many of you have those same memories.
The thing is, as we get older, it gets harder and harder to hold onto those Yule-time feelings.
Most of it just goes out the window with the complications of adulthood. Jobs, bills, and mortgages tend to take a big bite out of the ol’ Holiday Spirit.
Part of it just comes when the illusion of Santa is broken once and for all. I think I was around 9 at the time when my parents finally told me that Santa wasn’t real, but in all honesty, I kinda knew already. I just didn’t want to admit it.
It didn’t help that my parents were SO damn bad at hiding my presents every year, either……..
I’m not going to say that the holidays had gotten humdrum for me, but they certainly weren’t the holidays of my youth…..
Until Mini-Me came along.
One of the BEST parts of having a little boy in my life is that I can once again experience the magic of Christmas all over again, through his eyes.
Friz is always getting perturbed at me because I am always going overboard on my son every year. And she’s right, of course. Christmas isn’t ONLY about giving and getting, but for a 9 year old boy, it’s a pretty damn big part of it.
It might be sad to think of it this way, but being a child is typically the happiest part of a person’s life. It’s not ALL downhill as an adult, of course, but it IS certainly more DOWN than UP.
But, when that precious little boy of mine comes bounding into our bed at the crack of dawn this Christmas, begging us to wake up so he can bolt downstairs to see what Santa has left him, Darn It All To Heck, but that old Spirit of Christmas comes flooding back to me.
As I said, he’s 9 now, and by some miracle, he’s still “all-in” with believing in Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. I’m not sure how many more Christmas’s I have left where that’s going to be the case. In all probability, some little shit friend of his will soon open his big mouth about Santa and that, my friends, will be all she wrote.
So yes, I went a little overboard this year. Ok, Ok. I REALLY went apeshit this year. Did he REALLY need an Xbox with Kinnect along with the 2 dozen other pricey gifts I got for him? Probably not.
But damn it all, if this IS the last year that he is going to believe that a big fat man in a red suit came down our non-existent fireplace to place presents under our tree, then I sure as Hell wanted his last mythical Christmas experience to be one he’ll always remember with a smile…