The Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

I went through a list of Christmas carols to pick out my 10 favorite. It was hard narrowing it down. This one made the list because of my daughters. And the Muppets.

When my brother was in Kindergarten, he came home from school with information from his teacher about an educational program on public television called "Sesame Street". That was my family's introduction to Kermit, Oscar, Cookie Monster, Big Bird, and Bert and Ernie. When my girls were born, I fell in love with the show all over again and began to appreciate the adult humor that the writers snuck into the show. Singing songs like Bruce Springsteen's "Baby we were born to add" was one of my favorites. And I loved all the guest stars on the show.

One of the stories we tell a lot in this family, and one of my worst parenting moments, stems from Sesame Street. My oldest daughter, when she was two, was convinced that Oscar the Grouch lived in every garbage can she saw. If we were on walks, and I didn't keep close hold of her hand, she'd dart into people's yards when she saw a garbage can, grab the lid off it, and look to see if she could find Oscar. I'd have to drag her away. It alternated between embarrassing and annoying.

One day, shortly after my second daughter was born, we had a particularly difficult day a local store because the baby was being colicky (screaming) and my oldest was convinced that her imaginary pet mouse was lost in the store. She, too, started crying. Here I was, trying to manage the shopping bags and two crying children. I tried to convince my two year old the imaginary mouse was in the shopping bag. No dice. She just screamed louder. In exasperation, I just packed them both up in the car and headed home. But NO! In our garage, there sat the garbage can! My two year old refused to go in the house, screaming, "Oscar, Oscar, Oscar! I want Oscar!". Keep in mind I was about two weeks post-partum here, and I just snapped. I opened the lid of the trash can and with whatever was in my hand, I went, "Bam, bam, bam! There! Oscar's dead! Now come in the house."

I do not expect you to understand that if you haven't just given birth. And gone to the store with the baby. Who is colicky. And a two year old. Who has an imaginary mouse. That is lost. And needs to find Oscar. It was absurd. My husband was appalled. And I still get grief about that day some 20 years later.

But we all still love the Muppets. We had a Christmas CD of songs John Denver recorded with the Muppets...for his children and for all children. And the song The Twelve Days of Christmas on that CD is absolutely delightful. When the Muppets get to "five golden rings" they sing "bum bum bum" and with each verse they get louder and more enthusiastic. It so completely captures the spirit of joy of children and Muppets and I love it.

The day after Jim Henson died, there was an editorial cartoon in the paper of Kermit the Frog sitting alone on the curb under a street lamp. The sign on the corner read "Sesame Street". Kermit had his head in his hands and he was crying. I still have that cartoon. Jim Henson touched the lives of hundreds of thousands of children and adults. The gift he gave us with his Muppets is far greater than any golden ring.