We Do Not Sing Rudolph

Last night, drove around to look at lights.  We were listening to Christmas music and Rudolph came on –  I immediately shut it off.  They asked why and I started laughing…

I have  no doubt that sometime in the future my kids will need to see a therapist because of they way their dad and I raised them.  Among the things they will claim ruined their childhood will be that mommy never let them sing Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer in the car.  With good reason…

When I was growing up, one of my favorite Christmas songs was Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.  We will have to wait for Nana to chime in on a comment, but I am thinking it was maybe one of the first songs I learned.  The only problem is, as a child… it was free game to sing.  It could be the hottest day of August and I was eating an ice cream cone, sweat dripping off me… and I would still sing it.

I had different variations– the “normal” one and the one where you interject the funny things into the song.

So, let me stop the story here and explain to you how my dad had a lead foot.  I’ve told stories how we raced and he raced for years before I was born.  He got a lot of speeding tickets.

Back to the regularly scheduled post.

I would sing Rudolph in the back seat of the car all the time.  No matter if it was Christmas or not.

One day, we were coming back from a drive up to the lake.

Here we are racing driving down the road, me in the back seat singing Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer… and here come the flashing lights.

It was the police.

Dad got pulled over.

I’m sure my dad got a ticket.

The funny thing is, that wasn’t the first- or the last- time my dad got pulled over while I was singing Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.

In fact, growing up, I thought the lights were part of the story– you know, like Rudolph’s nose lighting the way or something.

Of course, now that I have kids… I know the truth.

Dad was just driving faster to get us home so he didn’t have to hear that stupid song.  One.  More.  Time.

Julia wants to live in a world where Hogwarts is real, dark chocolate is packaged with good books, and houses clean themselves. Until then, she is the divorced mom of twins, blogger, sometimes crafter, traveler, napper, cooker, snail mailer, geocacher, and corporate bean counter.