Daddy's little ham...A Christmas Carol...

Mrs. Narrator had come home from grocery shopping and Izzy grabbed the toilet paper and disappeared. We found her putting her doll to bed on it, complete with pillow and blanket.
Daddy: "Put the toilet paper back. It's not a bed for your doll, it's toilet paper."
Izzy: "It's not a bed, it's just for her to lie down on because she is a very sickly Asian."
Daddy:"A what? A sickly what?"
Izzy: "She has a sickness. A very sickly Asian kind of sickness and this helps her feel better."


It is that time of year again. The Seasonal glut of food and booze and presents and late bedtimes for the kids and sleep deprivation for the folks. And I love every second of it. There are far too few things in this life that are equal to the unbridled joy and lunacy of kids on Christmas morning. Watching the Romanesque orgy of avarice that possesses every kid from here to Tucumcari on the morning of December 25 warms my old frozen heart.
That being said, who was the bozo that said, "We're gonna have this Holiday, right and on this holiday we're going to give the kids pretty much everything they have ever wanted-with no strings attached. (OK, with you so far. Sounds like a gas) And then we're going to take these gifts and we're gonna wrap 'em up in colourful paper that we're gonna let the kids tear into shreds and throw around the house and we're not gonna care. (OK, a little messy but what the hell the kids get to have have a break too, right?) Then we're gonna let the kids eat crappy, sugary sweet food all day and run around like lunatics and we're not gonna do anything about it. (Man the kids are gonna love this one) And now here's the best bit. The kids are going to wake up at at a quarter past three on the morning of Christmas and the will be unable to get back to sleep and will continually ask 'can we get up yet?' (Wait, what's the middle part again?) Eventually you will relent and give into the kids by uttering the traditional holiday morning blessing. ("Alright, we can get up. Oh Christ, is it really six thirty?")
I loved being in the Christmas pageant as a kid and the apple has not fallen far from the tree. Izzy's very first Christmas show was last week. The drawback of working the night shift is missing these little gems as they actually unfold. The miracle of the modern age that we live in is the digital camera that Mrs. Narrator took with her.
Wow...is the word that instantly came to mind. As in wow if there was ever any doubt as to my role in her parentage it is gone now. Izzy is a super star of the highest order...OK I'm bragging a little but the fact remains she commanded the stage. Leonard Malten would have said her axe swinging was as realistic as he had ever seen. Pauline Kael would have made note of how she owned the stage by actually edging the kids on her side off of it and Gene Shalit would have noted that she may not know how to read but that Isobel knows what the number three looks like. Her hand gestures at the end of the performance (completely unscripted and improved I might add) brought a flair to the show that would have been that much less if they had been missing...The video itself is making the rounds in the family and I promise to post it up here if I am able. For now, let your imagination take you to a gym in southern Ontario, where you can watch a four year old girl in a red skirt and a green shirt live out the highs and lows in the life of five little Christmas trees...






And now a Christmas carol written by the Boy, The original occupant of the Fuzzy Blue Chair. Had me in stitches when he first sang it and will still make me smile whenever I hear it...enjoy.


Jingle Bells, Batman smells
Robin laid an egg.
The Batmobile lost a wheel
And the Joker got lost in some tall grass.


Merry Christmas from all of us at Wisdom from The Fuzzy Blue Chair!