1. If your spouse makes you buy BOTH of Neil Diamond’s Christmas albums so the family can play them on the iPod, then showing her this as a countermeasure is both funny and highly efficacious in decreasing the ambient amount of Neil Diamond. (If Rick Rubin’s not involved, Neil Diamond shouldn’t be gunking up my iPod.)
2. I have officially become my father. I have distinctive memories from childhood exclaiming with my brother over various gifts as we opened them, and my father peering over, apparently slightly confused, and saying “oh, right . . . ” as he remembered whatever it was made us so happy. In my 20s and early 30s, I came to think that this was a sort of performance, but this year, as the Little Man happily opened presents that I had almost no memory of buying, I found myself peering over, apparently slightly confused, and saying “oh, right . . . ” So, Merry Christmas, Dad!
3. If, on Christmas, your kid decides that “Jeebus” is a good nickname for your wife . . . who in the family, exactly, is doomed to Hell?
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