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Spongemom

I’m soaking.

It’s clear this is the first Christmas Joel will remember. Last year he was barely over two. This year he is barely over three and everything Christmas fascinates him. Our little Fisher Price nativity? Wow. The tree? Good gravy, look at that thing in our living room!

I hear Christmas through his ears, where “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” goes a little something like this:

First verse
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!

Chorus
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!

Second verse
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!

Third verse
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!

Fourth verse
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!

I sing along.

It’s shiny. It smells good. It’s warm. It’s cold. Little lights skirt the rims of roofs. Polar bears on TV drink Coke. Suddenly mommy buys those little marshmallows. Pine and mint, scarlet and evergreen, the Baby Jesus asleep on the hay, heavenly peace—it’s a good season, this Christmastime.

“Is today Christmas?” he asks.

I wonder the same thing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say yes.

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