December so far has been introspective and nostalgic. Heaviness mixed in with moments of joy. I’m thankful for the juxtaposition of the season. We need the counterbalance of light and lightheartedness at times to offset the aches of life. And while I’m all about expressing the aches, something occurred today that made me and my kids laugh more than we have in months. We needed that. I’m sharing if you might need it too.
This is a story about nothing of any significance whatsoever! If that’s okay with you, then by all means, keep reading. Please don’t watch the video at the end more than once if you don’t want to have a song engrained in your mind for-ev-er. I feel called to make this disclaimer because I believe in being a helpful human only sometimes. You’re welcome. 🙂
I have a child who is quiet, benevolent, good-natured, agreeable.
That is, until about the first week of December when she begins the process of reintroducing what is, in my opinion, the worst Christmas song ever written into my vulnerable mind.
This deserves a backstory. Once upon a time, I worked with a group of little children. During the Christmas season we learned and sang the same set of Christmas songs that had been performed in an annual Christmas program for ages. It should be noted that I did not choose these songs, because my selection would have been massively different, but it’s okay, it made sense to follow tradition. One of those songs was I’m the Happiest Christmas Tree written by who knows?
We sang the song several times a day. In the morning, before snack time, after lunch, on our way to exercise time, at the end of the day. As with all of the songs, we learned the ASL signs with each one and sang it regularly so the kids could sing it effortlessly for the Christmas program.
Well, this song became cemented into my head. The Christmas earworm that would never leave!!! I have tried to understand why this particular song decided to camp out in my brain for months and beyond after the program, and I’ve decided that it was because I didn’t want it to be there. Isn’t it true that what we don’t want to think about ends up being what we think about?
My daughter picked up on me singing this song around the house while washing dishes, sweeping floors, mindlessly wandering through the house. And she noticed that after I sang through about 10 seconds of the song, I would made a face of disgust and say something like “no, no, no, no, nooooooo!” And then a few minutes later I would start singing it again, loop cycle 100 times.
Eventually she became curious about why I both loathed and excessively sang this musical wonder, so I made the grand mistake of looking it up online and showing her a video of the song. I thought she would have EMPATHY, seeing as she is that kind of person. Instead, she began a revolution of awakening the earworm in every possible way, at every chance she could muster.
Late at night, in the middle of the summer, when we were on vacation, and especially in the middle of those beloved and rare moments of silence, all she needed to do was to sing the first line and the song would be stuck in my head for days. Or weeks.
The laughter that ensued from her, giggling until she CRIED, has been more than enough reward for me to allow this pattern to cycle again and again. So today, on a peaceful, snowy, quiet morning, when she tiptoed into my room, snuck up behind me, and then started to sing at the top of her lungs, “I’M THE HAPPIEST CHRISTMAS TREEEEEEEE!!!”, I nearly fell out of my chair. Then I laughed with her. Then I told her, “how dare you!” with giggling tears streaming down my face.
Then we watched this video. Do not be deceived by the calm introduction. It will just get worse. Special emphasis on 1:23-1:41. I’m so sorry, or maybe you’re welcome?
I’ll only be posting on Saturdays for the next little while at least, so if it takes me a few days to comment or respond, that’s why. I hope you have a peaceful week. 🙂
The Therapy of Words 