the first week of Christmas

CHRISTMASTIME IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, so... I'm a little excited, to say the least. And you know what? It's not my fault. I mean, my own name means "Christmas child," so... yeah. I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

There. I said it. 

SO in the spirit of the most wonderful time of the year, I would like to discuss the lyrics of a little Christmas ditty that is soooo creepy if you just stop to think about it. :D

You better watch out
You better not cry
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

 

Ok, so, first of all, if I were a little kid waiting for Santa Claus to show up, THIS WOULD NOT BE COMFORTING. What the heck you mean "you better watch out, you better not cry"?! Sounds to me like the angry threat of a frazzled mom at a grocery store (yeah you know the one--the one with the kid screaming and throwing a straight FIT in the cereal aisle). First line of the song and people are already out of control. Smh. 

He's making a list,
Checking it twice;
Gonna find out who's naughty or nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town

All right now hold up. If he's Santa, and he's supposed to know who all the naughty kids are, WHY does he need to check the list TWICE? I mean, isn't that your JOB, Father Christmas?! And this so-called "naughty-nice" list. Can we say completely arbitrary? I mean, if I broke into someone's house in the middle of the night, left a whole bunch of jank in their living room, then ate all the milk and cookies they had, I feel like that would qualify as some serious naughty status. Sound familiar?

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake

WAIT WAIT WAIT A MINUTE. Ok now we're just crossing into some creeper-imma-watch-you-sleep-cuz-I'm-weird-like-that territory. Listen, Sketchmeister. It is NOT ok to watch people sleep. Are you an anesthesiologist? No. No, I didn't think so.

With little tin horns and little toy drums
Rooty toot toots and rummy tum tums
Santa Claus is coming to town

Now you're just making words up, Dr. Seuss.

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake
Goodness sake

Didn't I just tell you that this is socially unacceptable behavior?!

 

You better watch out
You better not cry
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming
Santa Claus is coming
Santa Claus is coming to town

Ok, ok, we get it. He's coming. Sheesh.
 

So actually I'm really not here to rain on your parade if you grew up with Santa Claus as a kid. :) I don't have anything against the man in the red suit, to be honest. In fact, it doesn't matter how many times I watch The Santa Clause, The Polar Express, or Miracle on 34th Street--I will get a little teary-eyed literally every single time. 

What I do worry about is that if we're not careful, we forget about why we're even celebrating Christmas at all. Hey, I know that I forget a lot of times. I mean, I'm an obsessive Christmas decorator; I blast carols starting November 1, every year-- unfailingly; I squeal like a child when I see the lights; I beam from ear to ear when someone tells me "Merry Christmas." But let's be real, if Jesus hadn't been born, none of this stuff would even matter. Actually, we probably wouldn't even be celebrating anything. December would just be another mehhh winter month.

You know, if every year on my birthday people spent the whole day fussing over how great the cake is, fussing over how awesome the decorations for my party are and whatnot, and they didn't ever stop to say, "Hey, happy birthday, Natasha. I really love you, you know that?" I know I'd feel pretty down. Excluded, even.  I really don't want to make that kind of mistake with Jesus. He deserves way more.

The Moral of the Story: Jesus may not need a "Happy Birthday," but I don't doubt he'd love to hear it from you. :)