A Christmas Story

It was about six o'clock on Christmas evening that a certain little boy proclaimed to all who cared to listen that he had had it. What exactly "it" was would be left to speculation as he screamed and kicked and flailed in my arms. I caught a foot in my face and decided that "it" might be this whole being awake business. Attempts at putting JT down for a much needed nap were thwarted by more kicks and pitiful streaming tears.

"I'm so sorry, he skippped his nap so he's probably really tired," I kept repeating to any poor relative who would look my way. J's grandpa was sitting nearby. JT's ears favor his, and the old man tried to whisper some soothing words, but the little man would have none of it and continued his kicking and flailing.

The rest of the family attempted to proceed with the motions of Christmas by passing out and opening presents. Perhaps they were hoping that the presents would soothe him. Unfortunately, JT opened one gift, an Elmo aquadoodle set from his great auntie, and decided he absolutely had to have the box opened so that he could play with it then and there. Doubly unfortunately, was the lack of space for him to possibly play with his present and he continued his session of screaming and flailing. "Poor little guy," I would say as I tried comfort him. "He's very tried huh?" Grandpa would say as he watched his great grandson.

At some point, amidst the gift exchange and crying, JT found that his shoes and socks had become unbearable and he demanded that they be taken off. I looked around at my grandfather in law's disheveled home, which showed every indication that a person who liked to horde things but who didn't have the energy or inclination to clean regularly dwelled there and decided that no, taking off one's shoes and socks would not be a good idea. Thoughts of germs and disease flitted through my brain as my resolve to choose the necessary evil of keeping my little boy's shoes on became my firm and final stance.

"Oh no sweetie, don't take off your shoes," grandpa said.

Of course, this added to the "it" that he'd had enough of and JT screamed and kicked some more as I left the room for a moment to compulsively wash my hands. Upon my return, I attempted to not going to full freak out mode as I noticed JT sitting on the dirty floor of my grandfather in law's house with a single naked foot exposed for all to see. He was fussing with the shoe on his other foot and I quickly scooped him up and got a kick in the arm. My firm stance dissolved as I had mercy on my poor little one and took off his other shoe and sock. Perhaps, if I carried him around and didn't let him touch the ground again, everything would be alright. However, JT then wanted to run around barefoot, and shrieked hysterically at the thought of being confined in his mother's arms.

Eventually, J and I followed the advice of his childless youngest uncle and took JT for a drive around the block. After all, it couldn't hurt, it would save everyone's ears for a little while, and hey, "it always worked for [J]!" The Sweet Pea never really favored his father much, but I was willing to try anything. For the first five minutes, the little guy kept whimpering, "my shoe! my shoe!" as we drove around and around the block. We had left his shoes at my grandpa in law's along with Evie and eventually, JT noticed his sister was missing as well. "My Evie! I wanmyEvie!" he cried. "I wanmyEvie! I wanmyEvie!" It was sweet and sad as he cried him self to sleep wondering where his sister was. I looked in the rear view mirror and caught the outline of J watching over his son. We drove around the block a few more times to make sure JT was asleep before we went back to J's grandpa's house. As I unbuckled and lifted my Sweet Pea from his car seat, he let out a big sigh before he nestled his head on my shoulder and found his Christmas peace at last.

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How was your Christmas? Happy and full of laughter and loved ones I hope. To add a random thought to this random post, (and to continue our non-Christian Christmas thoughts), somehow, ironically, J and I interacted with no actual Christians on Christmas. Is that odd?

I also got my grades. A and B+ :sigh: B+'s are always difficult to bear. They make me feel guilty as they just mean I didn't work hard enough to get an A.