Winter Break is here. I used to call it Christmas Break, but then I moved to California where everything has to suit everyone and no one can feel left out, even though Hanukkah is officially over so Judaism has nothing to do with having two weeks off, and there might be like one family in my school who celebrates Kwanzaa. Nothing against Judaism and Kwanzaa. I love them both. I dated a Jewish girl in college. Other than that, I didn't really know any Jewish people until I moved to California and found half the Jewish population (and bagels).
(Note: I have actually worn a yarmulka in a Jewish wedding.)
But this year it feels more like Christmas Break, and that feeling brings me back to elementary school in Indiana, where sprawling nativities take up front lawns, and your neighbor's Christmas lights are enough to illuminate the town. (Wife and I watched The Town last night. Good flic, if you can endure Ben Affleck's fake, ominous glare for two and a half hours.) And what about LIVE NATIVITIES. Once I was a shepherd in one of those. I was actually a shepherd in shifts, standing next to a donkey. Maybe it was a horse that looked like a donkey. Either way, I was part of a LIVE FREAKING NATIVITY. You just stand there for like two hours at a time. People come and watch you just stand there. They stare, and no one does anything. Everyone just stares at each other. And then you stand there some more. And keep staring. There might've been a little caroling, but mostly standing and staring. That's weird.
TWO WEEKS OFF! Those are my three favorite words. Well, not entirely. How about, it's my favorite three word phrase? Much better. Until the Wife reads this, then I'm really screwed.
Blondie has been dancing a lot lately. She puts on her ballet shoes and prances around the house in a tutu that's two sizes too small. She has other tutus, but she always picks the tiny one. My point? I don't really have one, except now I listen to ballet music and watch Blondie choreograph The Three Year-Old Version of The Nutcracker. Last night she almost ran into the Christmas tree and nearly stepped on LC. (Note: LC is a live baby, he moves and cries and poops and everything).
Happy Hanu-Kwanza-Christmas!
P.S. I have many Jewish friends, but none who ACTUALLY celebrate Kwanzaa. Anyone out there celebrate Kwanzaa? Come on, I need a Kwanzaan in my Blackberry.
P.S.S.S.P.S.S.P. = I figure if Jeff Kinney (Diary of a Wimpy Kid author) can get away with calling it Christmas Break, then I can too.
