So one of my boys comes up to me yesterday as I’m taking down the tree, (That’s right…it’s already down. We tend to get on stuff like that.) and he’s got this big frown on his face. “It’s sad when Christmas is over,” he announced in a defeated little voice. No argument there. I get a melancholy feeling every single year on December 26. In fact, I was in the throws of it the very moment Jack made his poignant observation.
There are countless thoughts and actions that go behind Christmas. So much energy lovingly poured into it. Then BOOM. It’s over. Just like that. Gone. That’s why we get the tree down so soon. Christmas is over, and the tree is just a painful reminder of that fact. So out it must go. Same thing with all the decorations.
But what about the music? Must it go? Or is it okay to play Christmas music this week?
I’ve always been of the mind frame that once Christmas has passed, all Christmas music must cease. My wife, however, thinks it’s okay to play Christmas music through the new year. Here’s the funny thing: she could care less whether or not Christmas music is playing. But me, on the other hand? The one who has over 24 hours of Christmas music on his iPod? The one who makes certain that soft yuletide harmonies are continuously piped into all of the speaker zones within our house starting the moment Thanksgiving dinner has concluded? I love Christmas music.
So it’s odd, no? That the one who loves the music has a “zero tolerance” policy toward playing it after Christmas while the one who doesn’t give a rip if it’s playing or not would be a-okay if it were doing just that?
“It is sad when Christmas is over.” I said back to my little boy. “And it’s even sadder because we can’t play Christmas music.”
“Here we go again,” said wife with a roll of her eyes. (Now might be a good time to mention that every December 26, I lament the fact that Christmas music is forbidden. About 30 times.) ”Every year we have this mindless debate about whether or not we can play Christmas music after Christmas. And every year, I say it’s fine, but you insist it’s not. Then you go on to obsess over it’s absence, bringing it up repeatedly.”
“Honey,” I protested…