Well, it’s official, I’m a grown up. I managed to avoid it for 52 years, but somehow it happened. I’m just not sure when. Of course there were subtle signs over the years, getting married, running a small business and paying a mortgage, yet I thought I did a pretty good job of convincing myself and others that I was just a kid in an adult’s body.
Charlie Brown, my alter ego.
I became fully aware of my adulthood the other night. I sat down to watch “A Charlie Brown Christmas” for the umpteenth time. It had always been a perennial favorite and signaled the beginning of the Christmas season. When I was a kid, nothing got me in the mood for the holiday more than that cartoon. The “Grinch” was a close second.
Half way through the program the unthinkable happened. I lost interest and switched the channel. I don’t know if it was the stress of modern life or that the program had become all too familiar. Either way, it was a bit of a downer. I felt I had changed and not for the better.
Much introspection has followed and I think I have come to a simple conclusion. I haven’t changed. It is all Santa’s fault. That guy hasn’t left me a toy in like 40 years. He never even left a note. I think if someone is going to cut you off like that, he should at least send a memo.
So, here’s the deal, Mr. Claus. I’m sure you can spare one elf to make a toy for Kevin. I promise I have been good this year. I’ll be looking for something the morning of December 25. Don’t let me down. My entire perpetual childhood is riding on this.