As I write this in mid-October (yes, even Chatter has a longish lead time), it is not yet the most wonderful time of the year[1]. The goose is still in bathing suit shape, running 5K’s and assuming it has plenty of time to get fat[2]. And while my daughter needs no season to inspire wassailing[3], her carols of choice at the moment are the theme to “Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood” and “Kyrie,” the #1 Mr. Mister smash from 1985. (That may be funny but it’s no joke.) But since you’re reading this in early December – or July 2032 if you’re at the dentist – the holly and the ivy[4] are no doubt in full effect, bringing cheer to your soul and histamines to your eyes.
While tradition traditionally holds sway during Yuletide for the Fox Family, this year we are assured that a Christmas that will be unlike any that has come before. For this year we will not spend the morning of December 25 in Texas. We will be away. Not in a manger[5], but in our new abode in lovely Omaha, Nebraska.
Jealous? You will be come June.
Yes, the five Foxes will not be hearing the bells on Christmas day[6] echoing from DFW’s 1.8 million megachurches (2010 estimate), but will possibly be enjoying a white Christmas[7] of snowpocalyptic proportions. Yes, we did awaken to a dusting of powder back in 2009, but I vaguely recall going to Hurricane Harbor that afternoon to try the temporary “Angles We Have Heard Scream on High[8]” water slide and “Four Hundred Feet of Figgy Pudding[9]” lazy river. Of course, that may just be the nog talking.
While my wife and I are native Midwesterners, nearly eight years in north Texas has dulled our tolerance for Jack Frost nipping[10] at anything, including the aforementioned nog. While, in years past, we’ve trekked over the hills and through the woods to grandparents[11] in Kansas City and Iowa for Christmas gatherings, we’ve always been blessed with mild temperatures. So our Plano-born children have no concept of the dangers inherent in exploring a so-called winter wonderland[12] that at first blush resembles a picture print by Currier and Ives[13] but is, in fact, quite frightful[14]. While I doubt visions of thermal underwear will be dancing in their heads[15] come Christmas Eve, I suspect they may be demanding more soup. I just hope they don’t demand coal for snowman eyes[16] as such use was recently banned by the EPA.
Considering we won’t actually get into our new home until just before Thanksgiving, this will probably not be the year we start new, Nebraska-centric traditions. No interpretive dances to “Little Shucker Boy”[17] or trying to bear gifts[18] of injection-molded gold, myrrh and frankincense to a Cabbage Patch Christ child via a corn maze. Instead, when one of the Fox spawn excitedly asks, “Do you see what I see?” I’ll have to somehow tactfully reply that no, Santa Claus has not come to town[19] early – that grandmother swathed in red is just a Huskers fan.
To be honest, by the time the lords start a-leaping[20] (“You lords get offa my lawn!”), all I’ll want for Christmas is two nights’ sleep[21]. I realize there is ample reason for angels to be harkened to and mountains to be told things from, but I just can’t help thinking that this year my favorite Christmas carol will be “Silent Night.” Although I admit it’s hard to beat a rockin’ rendition of “Batman Smells.”[22] But then, we’ve already established that I’m hopped up on the nog.
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Jason Fox wishes you a merry Christmas that is not 85 degrees. Unless you’re in the Bahamas.
[1] It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
[2] Christmas is Coming
[3] Here We Come A-Wassailing
[4] The Holly and the Ivy
[5] Away in a Manger
[6] I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
[7] White Christmas
[8] Angels We Have Heard on High
[9] We Wish You a Merry Christmas
[10] The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting…)
[11] Over the River and Through the Woods
[12] Winter Wonderland
[13] Sleigh Ride
[14] Let it Snow
[15] The Night Before Christmas
[16] Frosty the Snowman
[17] Little Drummer Boy
[18] We Three Kings
[19] Santa Claus is Coming to Town
[20] The 12 Days of Christmas
[21] All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth
[22] Jingle Bells