If it were up to me, there’d be absolutely no Christmas in our household. I like the Grinch, he’s the one voice of reason in this whole mess we call “Christmas”. Sadly, as the story goes, the outside pressures of Whoesville cause him to deny his ideals to gain the acceptance of his peers. I understand his predicament, I have my own Whoes to contend with. Thus at the end of every season, I’m left feeling like I’ve just eaten a poop-filled truffle. Gross, I know. I just can’t merge the holiness of the sweet baby Jesus, the significance of His birth and the nonsense that Christmas has become. Fortunately for the Natives, Cowboy loves Christmas.
He loves it for the Natives sake and for all the happy memories he had as a boy – for this one magical day, he’s a little boy again and sharing the moment with his compadres.
He’s adamant about creating happy childhood memories for them and Christmas is an opportunity for him to do that. For him, and for them, I do my very best to try to squelch my Grinch-like tendencies and I go through the motions.
We decorate the house. Cowboy and his helpers open up their traditional snow- flake making factory (it’s usually the only snow we’ll see in these parts), we hang up the stockings, put up the trees, string lights on the house
and join them in their anticipation over Santa coming and filling the house with more stuff they don’t need (whoops, now my Ebenezer Scrooge is showing!). Their childhood is fleeting and I’d hate to rob my children of the magic that Christmas brings.
Maybe they’ll never know the Grinch amongst them, or maybe, just maybe one day they’ll wonder “how could it be so? And they’ll puzzle and puzzle ’till their puzzler is sore. Then they’ll think of something they hadn’t before. What if Christmas, they’ll think, doesn’t come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?*”
* Dr Seuss originally authored. I’ve Dr’ed it up for applicability – Cheers!