An Explanation

We have a tradition in my house at Christmas. I honestly have no earthly idea how it started or even when it started. We'd all be sound asleep in our beds on Christmas morning {we're not early risers in my family...not even for a holiday} dreaming of sugar plums and cookies. And then IT WOULD HAPPEN. Blaring through the speakers from my dad's office, it would startle us all awake. Ryan would usually be stubborn and hide out under pillows and headphones in his room, refusing to let it wake him. I on the other hand, I would storm out of my room pissed off. You see, I dont like being scared awake...even when I know that it comes every year. I would trudge out of my room with a scowl on my face to my dad, who would be just coming out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee, a huge grin on his face, singing along... "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas...I dont think Santa Clause will mind do you?" EVERY CHRISTMAS we would be scared awake by that silly song playing throughout the house. And my dad, well, he loves the song...he's the only one in my house that loves that song. We, the scared awake portion of the family, hate it.

My first Christmas away from my family was in Minnesota with Andrew's family. It was the Christmas before we got married and I remember being curled up on my inflatable bed smiling as I drifted to sleep...there would be no hippo song in the morning to wake me up at some ungodly hour. Little did I know, my loving fiance had made a pact with my father that year and at 7am on Christmas morning, Andrew played the hippo song to wake me up on Christmas morning. Needless to say, after a few pillows thrown in the direction of the doorway and an angry call to my laughing father, I accepted the idea that there was a very good chance my dad was going to pull this off every single year no matter where I was.

This year I prepared myself. I made Andrew promise not to help my dad. I recited what had happened last year, my dad driving by our apartment at the time, his truck windows down as he blared the song underneath our bedroom window. Andrew promised not to help him ever again since he was now married and on my side. So this Christmas, we locked my father out. We made sure that despite their spare key, they wouldnt be getting into our house. I checked every CD player and computer before bed, even locking our bedroom door from the inside. And with that, I smiled and drifted off to dream of sugar plums and cookies.

Christmas morning I woke up. There was no hippo song. I got ready to spend Christmas morning at Andrew's parents house. There was no hippo song. In fact, I went through till lunch before I realized. THERE WAS NO HIPPO SONG! I grabbed my cell phone to gloat: dost my ears deceive me? *gasp* No Hippo Song! I typed a quick text message to my dad. I smuggly poured another cup of coffee, thrilled beyond all reason...until.

If you have been on my website on Christmas, you might have noticed that there was a song being played all day long on my website. That song was the hippo song. And irritatingly enough, it stayed there all day long. My father has won again this year...but there WILL be retaliation.

Dwell in Possibility...
Cassie