The First and Last Christmas Song of January

Editor's Note: It seems I'm having to make apologies to a LOT of songwriters these days. Anyway, channel the tune for "Silent Night" and sing along. Quietly, if you have kids in bed.

Oh, and Franz Gruber, you sweet German songwriter, thanks for my favorite hymn of all times....

Silent Night, Holy Cripe!
All is calm and it's only nine.

Mike is safely away at a MAVS game.
I'm all comfy in my pj's.

Christ's watching over us alllllll.
Christ's watching over us alllllll.

Silent Night, Holy Cripe!
When my kids are asleep I haven't a gripe.

Early in the morning time I will be up.
They will wonder aloud "When will we sup?"

I feel the headache nowwww.
I feel the headache nowwww.

Silent Night, Holy Cripe!
"School starts today" isn't hype.

The songwriter who said "Mom and Dad can hardly wait..."
Obviously had kids younger than eight.

Joy! Peace! Bliss! And sanityyyyy.
School is open again!


And to my darling, angels of children: One day, when you get married and become Daddies, you'll get this little ditty and laugh at how witty your Mother is.

Sadly, you'll have to come to the sanatorium to tell me.....

Hysterical Lyrical Mess

You know your child has most definitely grown up in Texas when the following words issue from his mouth:

Pair a Jocka
Pair a Jocka
I Kung Fu
I Kung Fu

There is some poor, dead Frenchman shaking his head in disgust, saying "Merde! Ignorant enfant."

I believe in singing loud and proud, even if you don't really have the voice to pull it off. BUT, if you don't know the words, you really should keep your pie hole shut.

I blame Mike for this. He makes up lyrics with astounding inaccuracy and frequency. There have been many times in our married life I have looked at him with complete disgust as he was screwing up words to my beloved 80's songs.

Let's just hope this is a learned behavior and not a genetic defect.

Annoyances Anyone?

Wanna know how to break the silence in a house, pre-7 a.m., and annoy the Mother so much that she about has a nervous breakdown before she can get a coffee fix?

Channel the early 80's, start singing "I'm All Out of Love" by Air Supply, and repeat ONLY the refrain because you are ten and you don't know any more of the words.

I really had hoped Air Supply would die when we celebrated New Year's 1986. I would have gladly ponied up good coin to throw them a decent funeral.

Truth is, they actually published their GREATEST HITS as late as 2004. And is your brain making the connection here? That means PEOPLE STILL LIKE THEM.

Oh.My.Goodness.Gracious.Golly.Gosh.

I'd HONESTLY take Milli Vanilli over Air Supply. Even though they were total frauds and all, at least they weren't all mushy and in need of testosterone.

It didn't take me long to figure out that there is only one way the lyrics could be any more disconcerting. And that would be if the second most annoying force in the universe teamed up with Air Supply to use this song in their latest movie.

Yes, Alvin and the Chipmunks are back, Christmas 2009. You, too, can overpay to hear their helium-filled, potty-joking, insanity-producing little tails.

If you haven't had the pleasure of hearing the trailers for the movie, let me just encapsulate: Add helium to Air Supply, shake liberally, insert potty-words and actions into chipmunk's mouth, and serve.

Prozac, anyone?

One thing is for sure. The Nowell house has become an "Air Supply/Alvin and the Chipmunks Free Zone". I told my son I NEVER, under any circumstances, wanted to hear that song again.

And if he ever sucks helium out of a balloon AND sings Air Supply? I have a list of military-style boarding schools at the ready.

Considering the frequency at which I delivered the message*, I don't think this will be an issue.

I just hope his ears stopped bleeding by the time he got to school.



*Which was somewhere North of Ella Fitzgerald's High C.

Christmas song remix

The latest Christmas song to be modernized in our household is to the tune "Deck the Halls" and goes:

Deck the halls with poison ivy
Fa la la la la, la la la la
There is no second verse
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Break a window, pop a tire, set your wafflemaker on fire
Fa la la la la, la la la la
The concluding verse is not complete
Fa la la la la, la la la la*

As usual, I tried to maintain a serious look on my face and correct the boys by saying "Why do you continue to ruin perfectly good Christmas song lyrics?"

To which, my oldest, with all seriousness, replied "We're boys. What do you expect?"

Um. A modicum of decor. A little self-restraint. Lyrics that wouldn't embarrass nuns. Nothing Earth-shattering, really.

I realize kids aren't perfect angels. Heaven knows they aren't the spawn of perfect parents. But, sometimes, I think they must have a little devil on their shoulders.

I know this devil hasn't taken up residence because they've all, save The Babe who doesn't quite get it yet, accepted Jesus into their hearts.

But, just for good measure, I checked all their near-bald heads today.

No 666 on any scalps.

WHEW. (That's me. Breathing a big sigh of relief.)


*Christmas-carol-writers around the world are not shaken, nor stirred, by this rendition, nor do they feel the need to get to work, based on the Nowell boys complete lack of writing ability.