Wednesday, December 10, 2014

May All Your Christmases Be White

We made a little list of things to do over the Christmas season.

No big goals here, people.  Just a few things that would probably have happened anyway, but don't they look so cute on a chalkboard?

(I'll be honest, reading A Christmas Carol  is a long shot.  But the list needed at least one stretch.)

On Sunday night, my mom made chili and we settled down in their basement to watch White Christmas.  There are certain things about my childhood that remain very mysterious to Aaron, and I'd say the incredible significance of White Christmas is at the top of that list.

My sister and I loved to dress up as little girls.  My mom collected old dresses, shawls, high heel shoes - the stuff of dreams.  Our entire collection of dress up filled two garage bags.  When friends came over, we emptied the bags all over the bedroom floor and worked our way through multiple clothing changes as we acted out weddings, balls, plays, and oh yes, the pivotal scenes from White Christmas.  (We also drew a lot of inspiration from The Lawrence Welk Show.  Childhood quirks!)

Me and my sister with our friends Pam and Jennifer, circa 1992.  That yellow dress was my fave.

Everybody always wanted to be Judy.  My friend Pam got to be Judy more often than not because she was the only one who could wrap the rainbow stretch belt around her waist twice.  When it was just my sister and I, we sashayed around the living room singing, "There were never such devoted sisters."  To this day, I still wish I could have figured out how to tap my foot as fast as Judy.

In a few years, Anna will be old enough to meet the magic.  We'll watch it together, and the songs and the dances and the LOVE STORY will enchant her too.  

I can't wait.  I've missed dressing up.


  1. That's called our living room, Lara. Our basement is down the stairs from Peter's room.

  2. Dad, I like how you hide under the cloak of anonymity, and then you reveal exactly who you are by the content of your comment. :)

  3. It's not anonymity, it's being too lazy to sign in. Guess who.