CHRISTMAS RULES FOR EACH OTHER

Christmas rules, even when it crowds my December birthday.

I could complain, but it would be a stretch.

This year I shared Christmas, and my birthday, with my dog’s first birthday.

And others. It was a good kind of crowd.

As much as I try to cultivate a hard shell for life’s hard moments, my Christmas Rules say fuggetaboutit.

Maybe it was the dog, or the young men and their wives?

No, it’s the baby.

What else gives more meaning to Christmas rules than a two year old whirlwind?

Baby always rules at Christmas.

They are the reminder to do the right thing.

What Is The Right Thing At Christmas?

Leave it to Mother Theresa for the final word on Christmas rules?

She saw much of life, and so much of it had to be difficult.

But, if you’re not Mother Theresa, you probably want ‘more.’

I don’t know if there’s more to want when my herd pulls in for Christmas.

It started with food, then Christmas stockings, then over to the tree.

No one got a can of Spotted Dick this year, which is the only disappointment.

But we all got a dose of each other without going over.

Part of the day was musical with guitars and drums. (Hey Rusty.)

Another part was a Bollywood movie. (Hey D.)

From there it was off to the best Christmas Eve party every year.

And more guitars.

Who stays out until 1 am on Christmas Eve? (Hey Duke.)

I think I figured it out. (Thanks M.)

This Is The Right Thing For Christmas Rules

Let the reasons for Christmas rise to the top.

Make and hold memories, like sharing Christmas ornaments of kids and Santa with their over-thirty adult selves.

I remember the chore of getting them dressed and prettied up with Ma and scouting the best Santa location.

My favorite Santa held court on the 10th floor of the Meier and Frank building the 80’s and 90’s.

One year at Washington Square Santa told the kids all about their momma in detail.

I stood by wondering how Santa knew so much about my wife and made plans to come back later.

My wife said she knew him through her work. She knows a lot of people.

Luckily for all the little boys and girls waiting in line, no one has a moment of wringing out Santa for a lasting memory.

But I do have people who add value to togetherness, even when one of them said ahead of time, “Don’t let dad get into the mimosas.”

Kids?

Bah humbug, er, big hugs.