The decorations were all put away with care. The paper chains had been thoroughly destroyed by pretend Ninja Turtles. And the stupid prelit Christmas tree with the nonfunctional lower limbs was now safely residing at the dump.
I thought I was finally free of all of the Yuletide misery.
My kids still just want to listen to Christmas music during the thirty minute commute to school and then back home again: Rudolph. Santa’s Coming to Town. Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. Some weird Elvis-sy rendition of White Christmas. And the list goes on.
It is listen to that over and over again or listen to two screaming kids for the total of an hour out of my day. Decisions, decisions.
Damn you jolly St. Nick.
Maybe the dinosaurs should attack and destroy the CDs….