A local radio station here in Chattanooga (98.1) has been playing Christmas music for about 3 weeks now. Normally that would annoy me, but I promised Paul that if he didn’t make me do all the things that stress me out on the holidays I would ooze so much damn Christmas spirit he would be shocked.
That means the kids get to blast Christmas music all the time. Pandora in the living room, the car radio, the radios in their rooms…
We were driving somewhere the other day and Baby, It’s Cold Outside came on. (You know, the one that’s a duet with the lady trying to leave and the man talking her out of it. I’m not saying the song is about date rape but at one point she does say, “Say, what’s in this drink?” Hmmm….)
Thirty seconds into the song, Gracie asked, “Why does he keep interrupting her?” I explained that it was a duet. Then the man sang, “It’s up to your knees out there.” Wesley said, “It’s up to her knees? I wonder how tall she is. Mom, how tall is she?” I really don’t know, but I am starting to suspect that most van accidents are caused by children’s questions.
I’m off to eat some mistletoe…












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