A Treat for the Ears. Or something.

I am sick today, so you get a reblog. It’s the time of year when all the radio stations and shipping malls are regaling you with Christmas tunes, anyway, so I’m not that early. Heck, Hallmark has their ornament premiere in July, so I might even be a little late. Anyway, enjoy.

Becoming Cliche

Everybody has a list. Here’s mine, in no particular order.

Christmas Shoes – This has to be the sappiest song ever written. And it makes no sense. A kid’s mom is terminally ill, so his dad lets him wander away from the hospital with maybe thirty-five cents in his pocket (okay, I made that number up. But it’s based on research with an actual child. My kid’s pockets contain less than fifty cents at any given moment) to go buy his mama some shoes. So she can look pretty when she meets Jesus. Personally, I thought the Prince of Peace was looking at our hearts and not our footwear. Maybe I should buy something other than Birkenstocks. And what kind of shoes does Dad think the kid can even buy with a quarter and some pocket lint? Even in the clearance rack at Wal-mart, the pickings would be pretty slim…

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