Saturday, November 27, 2010

Corn for Christmas

My wife gets frustrated with my lack of enthusiasm for the holidays. She's 33 going on 3 when you talk about the season to be jolly. She can't wait for the local radio station to begin their all Christmas music format. She thrives on the planning process for gifts for the kids. She loves putting up the Christmas decorations and the tree (or should I say, bugging me to drag the stuff from our garage so she can expertly supervise the Schmidt Home Holiday Launch). Me...not so much.

I have a weird feeling that she didn't really want another baby for normal reasons . Her motive was Christmas related. Ian and Desi don't have a lot of Santa belief left in them, so the wife fooled her goofy husband into creating another being, to keep Old Saint Nick's spirit in the Schmidt house for another few years. It's like Santa was on life support, but Doctor Holly has created a temporary miracle on Golf Crest Circle cure. Parker J. is due on December 21st, just in time for Christmas. Coincidence? I think not.

Holly has tried to make me drink the Egg Nog flavored Kool-Aid with little success. She did post one victory, although I highly doubt she will claim it. She kept going on and on about holiday traditions and how important they were. I listened, like a good husand should, and I decided to start my own holiday tradition. It's odd. Would you expect anything else? I dubbed my tradition: "The Christmas Pantry Surprise!".

A few years ago, I thought it would be funny to wrap up something unusual for Riley. Like most kids, she opens a present...looks at it for 2.6 seconds...and races to open the next gift. I asked myself, "If I gave her something strange, would she even notice or slow down?" That year, I wrapped up a can of creamed corn from the pantry, topped it with a giant bow, and placed it under the tree. She plowed through her pile of presents at a vigorous pace and when she opened the corn, she put the brakes on for a moment. I could tell her little brain was trying to figure out if there was really corn in the can and if was it a joke. I didn't explain and instead muttered 4 words: "You like corn, right?" Riley resumed her speedy gift opening. At first, I believed my little tradition project failed but as she told people about her presents, she never failed to mention "and Dad got me a can of corn.". I assure you that months later, she couldn't name more than 3 items she received at Christmas, but corn was always one of them. Each year after, Riley has tried to guess the mystery canned good in advance and opened a variety of items with my holiday tradition. Last year, it was refried beans. Ole' and Feliz Navidad!

I can't say if this tradition will last forever, but I'll laugh pretty hard if many, many years from now, one of my grandkids asks me why their Mom gave them a canned of creamed corn for Christmas.

Until next time, buh bye.

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