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The Christmas Chronicles of Wise Wes

February 3, 2012

I am a failure and haven’t blogged about my wonderful father in awhile. 

Normally I come up with a clever title and have a general theme for the post, but just so much has happened. Therefore I will just present it to you in a series of short stories called “The Christmas Chronicles of Wise Wes.” These will happen over a series of the next couple of posts.

Christmas is my absolute favorite time of the year to spend with my dad. He really thrives with pessimistic humor in times of holiday cheer.

My dad doesn’t really like all the glitz and glam of Christmas. Hauling down all the decorations from the attic, putting up lights, buying presents and all those special times are not his favorite. His dream is that one day he can just turn on a projector and it will project a tree onto the wall.

One night over the holidays we went to Hobby Lobby, because my mother was on some sort of crazy garland hunt. My dad and I found this Charlie Brown tree which he absolutely loved.

Side note: When my parents got to the register my dad is about to hand me the tree and says “you and your mom checkout, I’m going to run to the bathroom.” But at the same time my mom says “wait no, I was going to say that.” They pause and stare at each other and then in one fowl swoop a tree was throne at me and my parents just started running, racing each other to the bathroom. So there I was alone, with no money and a Charlie Brown tree at the register. Pathetic I know.

If you missed that at the end he says that the tree represents his Christmas. Also sorry it’s sideways, I don’t know how to fight that.


My dad’s least favorite thing about Christmas is Christmas Eve. He got sent to Walmart three times on Christmas Eve and described it as the “Apocalypse” because it was an “absolute zoo.” So my brother threw a wrench in Christmas traditions, because he has a job as a nurse now. We had to forgo the traditional Christmas Eve party and opening presents on Christmas morning so we could open presents on Christmas Eve.

A little saddened by the lack of traditions I asked my parents on Christmas Eve night if we were still going to have cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. They didn’t even know it was a tradition. So while we were all out we asked my dad to run into Walmart. Forty-five minutes late he emerges from Walmart, hands me two cans of cinnamon rolls. In a staggering, voice like he had just fought a war he said “Chooooke on it.”

He loves it.


Oh and it helps to know that at dinner he said he was “on his last Christmas nerve.”


He always freaks out about the weather on Christmas. His logic is if rains then everyone will not want to go outside and they will wait out the storm. So then they stay in his house, and sit on his furniture and eat his food forever.

So he was depressed that it was supposed to rain on Christmas. But he tried to make the best of it….until his Charlie Brown tree ornament was broken. Christmas canceled.

No my dad is a trooper. As long as there are still gobs of ice and free refills in the world he will continue to “barely make it” in a world that “fights him every step of the way.”

Life Lesson: To quote the Grinch (my dad’s favorite Christmas movie) “Cheer up dude, it’s Christmas.”

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