Christmas

Now that Mikie is in school, he has been learning a lot of new things. Days of the week, months of the year, seasons, the weather, even holidays. He of course is very excited about the coming of Christmas. At least once a week, the post office graciously delivers "magazines" (aka, toy catalogs) to our house. Mikie studies them like he is studying for his MCATs. I only hope he is as studious when school starts. He finds something he likes, and the conversation goes like this:

Mikie: pointing to a toy "What's this, Mom?"

Mom: "Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em Robots."

Mikie: "Read it to me, Mom."

Mom: "'A classic since 1966. Remember the fun you had competing for the title? Two contenders control the plastic boxers every move until the winner knocks loose the other’s spring-loaded head. Lots of action and competition. Will Red Rocker or Blue Bomber prevail?'"

Mikie: "I could have these robots. I could get them for my birthday."

Mom: "Your birthday is over. You can ask Santa for them, and if you are a good boy, MAYBE he will bring them to you."

Mikie: "I will write a letter to Santa so he can bring me these robots for me." (as opposed to bringing them to our house for someone else.)

I figured, since he was so into the idea of Santa, that I would read some Christmas stories, and let him watch "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown". Heck, if for no other reason than it is a welcome break from watching the "Cars" movie for the 1,000 time. Well, a week after watching the movie, we were sitting a dinner talking about holidays. I asked Mikie what happens at Christmas. Acceptable answers included "Baby Jesus is born", "Santa comes", "It snows", etc. Not Mikie. He looks at us and says "Christmas is commercial, Mom". "Christmas is a racket."

Evidently, instead of picking up on the love and acceptance in the movie, Mikie chose to remember "Christmas is a commercial racket."

Good grief.

Love, The Trahans