Two days before Christmas, I was discussing our Christmas Eve celebration with my father. The celebration takes place up at my parents\u2019 home, and Cornells from hither and yon gather to eat, yak, and listen to little kids sing and\/or play their piano recital pieces. The performance part of the Christmas Eve program ranges from the wildly talented (i.e. my kids) to the somewhat talented (i.e. most of the other kids) to the spectacularly untalented (i.e. weird kids I don\u2019t know.) I asked my father if I could use the occasion to croon \u201cThe Miracle of the Christmas Poo\u201d to the rest of the Cornell clan.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he said flatly.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I sang it for a ward party, and it went over OK.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he said again.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I don\u2019t get into describing the poo per se\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sang it anyway. <\/p>\n
After considerable goading from my sisters, I changed the line that said \u201cI dreamed of pretty flowers\u201d to \u201cI dreamed of all my presents.\u201d Heather O., who was present for the performance, welcomed the alteration and gave the whole thing a thumbs up. Afterward, my father stood up and said, \u201cIn most families, a story like that would be written down and buried in a journal somewhere.\u201d Not with the Cornells, baby!<\/p>\n
Christmas itself was delightful, as always. Readers of this blog will take special note of the gifts I received from my sister wbpraw, who gave me a notepad with a caricature of Yul Brynner in the corner that said \u201cFrom the desk of Stallion Cornell.\u201d I also received a set of address labels with the same pic and the return address \u201cStallion Cornell\/The Hearts of All Decent Folk\u201d printed on top, followed by my home address which I will not reveal here. She also gave me a deck of Yul Brynner playing cards, and, my favorite, a t-shirt for my youngest son with a picture of Yul Brynner in pirate garb and the name \u201cStalliondo!\u201d written in bold letters.<\/p>\n
Stalliondo does not fully appreciate how cool this was, but I do, and I thank them publicly therefore.<\/p>\n
For the most part, Christmas came and went without incident, although I can\u2019t say the same for my son Corbin\u2019s faith in Santa Claus.<\/p>\n
As I\u2019ve chronicled here,<\/a> I believe in Santa Claus, and I think Christmas is much more fun for others who do, too. Cleta, our oldest, admitted that a conversation with a carpool friend in 1st grade made believing difficult for her, and evidence suggests that Chloe is simply putting up a good front. Three-year-old Stalliondo believes, I guess, but he\u2019s still pretty unclear on the whole concept.<\/p>\n \u201cSanta\u2019s coming because it\u2019s my birthday?\u201d he would ask. No, we patiently explained, people get presents on Christmas, too.<\/p>\n \u201cChristmas is my birthday? I\u2019ll be four?\u201d<\/p>\n No, Christmas is not your birthday. You’re still three. We told him this many times, but he didn\u2019t believe us. But he did believe Santa was coming, so we took what we could get.<\/p>\n The kids who are on the cusp, however, are seven-year-old twins Corbin and Cornelius.<\/p>\n Cornelius didn\u2019t say or do anything to indicate that he was uncertain, but Corbin asked a lot of questions, up to and including, \u201cAre you Santa?\u201d When he asked this of his mother, she said, as I would have, \u201cI believe in Santa Claus.\u201d That wasn\u2019t the answer Corbin was looking for, but it\u2019s the one she repeatedly gave, and it didn\u2019t satisfy him at all.<\/p>\n On Christmas Eve, we faced another problem.<\/p>\n In Mrs. Cornell\u2019s family, every family member gets to open one present on Christmas Eve. This was heresy in the Cornell family, and I resisted this tradition infecting my own progeny for as long as I could. However, Santa used to leave the Cornell children a new set of pajamas. So, as a compromise measure, we\u2019ve arranged to have our two cats give us each a new pair of pajamas every year, which is the one present we get to open the night before Christmas. It\u2019s not a perfect solution, but it\u2019s one everyone can live with. And it gives me a reason not to hate my cats.<\/p>\n As we performed this annual ritual, Corbin came up to Mrs. Cornell, and, in a very sheepish voice, said, \u201cThere\u2019s something I have to tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n See, the goal of Mr. and Mrs. Cornell for the past several years has been to get preparations for Santa\u2019s visit out of the way prior to the wee hours of Christmas morning. In light of that goal, I had taken the kids roller skating \u2013 another Cornell Christmas Eve tradition \u2013 so she could accomplish certain wrapping procedures that Santa specifies. (In our house, Santa always uses a wrapping paper different from the ones our own presents come wrapped in.)<\/p>\n Well, it turns out that Corbin had walked into our walk-in closet, discovering a mound of wrapped presents that had not yet been placed under the tree. He wasn\u2019t sure why they were there, and he left quickly, as he sensed he was seeing something he wasn\u2019t supposed to have seen.<\/p>\n As it turned out, the Cornells were up past 1:00 AM redoing some of the wrapping preparations that had been made previously, in the hopes that Corbin wouldn\u2019t lose faith. I even made a trip to Walgreens in my new pajamas, only to discover everyone in the neighborhood was there to greet me.<\/p>\n We made great efforts. Yet I doubt we were successful.<\/p>\n Corbin asked his \u201cAre you Santa?\u201d question the next morning. He also overheard us discussing one of the presents that Santa brought. Mrs. Cornell told Heather O. that, \u201cWe got these blue BYU wigs for Corbin and Cornelius,\u201d not realizing that Corbin was within earshot.<\/p>\n \u201cYou<\/em> got them!\u201d Corbin said, pouncing on the admission. \u201cThat\u2019s what you said! Not Santa! You<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI said \u2018we got<\/em> them,\u2019\u201d Mrs. Cornell explained. \u201cYou know, like, \u2018we got them for Christmas.\u2019 And we got them for Christmas because Santa brought them.\u201d<\/p>\n That didn\u2019t quite work, either.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t think there\u2019s much we can do to prevent them from growing skeptical. And I\u2019m somewhat suspicious that Cornelius\u2019 silence on the issue means he\u2019s already gone over to the other side. That\u2019s all right. People have to go through decades of skepticism before they start believing again.<\/p>\n And there\u2019s always Stalliondo. Santa brings him presents on his birthday, you know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Twodays before Christmas, I was discussing our Christmas Eve celebration with my father. The celebration takes place up at my parents\u2019 home, and Cornells from hither and yon gather to eat, yak, and listen to little kids sing and\/or play their piano recital pieces. The performance part of the Christmas Eve program ranges from the ... 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