Its name is Daisy, and it’s what Christmas is all about.
Daisy is a Fur-Real pet; an animatronic cat that looks and sounds like it was stolen off the set of “KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park.” It purrs. It swats at a little feather duster. It stands up on its hind legs. It sings a song that might be a copyright infringement from those old Meow-Mix commercial. And Jellybean loves it. In fact, Daisy was really the only thing she specifically asked for this year, so how could we not get it, even though My Lovely Wife and I both knew we’d want to bury it in the back yard before New Year’s Eve.
Still, the squeals joy and Jellybean’s Happy Dance when she saw Daisy sitting there in the den were well worth the string of Eminem-worthy obscenities we muttered under our breath each time Jellybean turned it on.
There are lots of sorrowful moments for parents as their children grow up and become more independent. But by far the hardest to reconcile is when you can no longer turn a toy off, thus getting a moment’s peace of mind, by telling them it “went to sleep.”
That’s part of that magic of Christmas. It has nothing to do with those disgusting “he went to Jared” or “Every Kiss begins with K” or — God forbid — those ridiculous Lexus commercials whose super-sweet images of beautiful people exchanging ridiculously priced gifts or kids coming down from their rooms to a FAO Schwarz-like spread of gifts that make your real life seem so drab, boring and disappointing.
I caught myself tearing up over a McDonald’s commercial because I knew our Christmas wasn’t going to be that good.
Nope … Christmas is about getting a hug and kiss on the cheek from you daughter for buying a toy you hate.
Or, as Jellybean says, “Christmas is about being with family and celebrating giving birth to the baby Jesus.”
Aside from Daisy, we had a very pleasant, if low-key, celebration with Jellybean waking up at 1 a.m., 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. before finally being allowed to leave her bedroom at 6:30. Good thing Nanna was on time. Jellybean goes to sleep every night to “Lockup” and knows how to make a shank and bust out, if push comes to shove.
Everyone got something they really wanted, especially The Diva, who got both money and fancy tools (or perhaps weapons for a planned overthrow of the Buckner dictatorship) for her hair. My Lovely Wife received a tape dispenser in the shape of an old-school mixed tape because she wanted one that “reflected my personality.”
Suffering for days with a flu-like virus, all I wanted for Christmas was an iron lung, but instead got some cool Auburn bedroom slippers, assuming bedroom slippers can be cool.
The big gift was five nights at Disney World in Orlando, during which time we’re also going to Harry Potter World. But since that’s not really happening until February, the girls were much more impressed with the presents they could actually open.
But when that magical February day comes and we load up the car, I’ll have only one request — Daisy stays at home.
Contact Brett Buckner at firstname.lastname@example.org.