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After a while, after his parents separated, after years of growing up, after falling in love and starting a family, Alex forgot what it felt like to grieve the end of Christmas because after all, it was mostly for the kids at this point. They weren’t good Catholics or Christians. The magic of believing in Santa Claus and the thrill of making a Christmas list and the excitement of exchanging gifts with friends without spending your own money. It’s everything a child loves. He forgot what it felt like when it was all over for the year and having to mope around while his mom took down the stockings and his dad put away the tree ornaments.
“Go play with one of your presents, sugar.”
“I don’t wanna!” He cried as he clung to his stocking.
“Mijo, you are going to make Santa sad.”
So when it came time to put away the holiday decor and a certain 2-year-old started screaming at him, he was, needless to say, a bit surprised. She had gone as far as collecting the ornaments from the storage box he was trying to fill and hiding them in her toy chest. Alex wasn’t too concerned about them, he could put them away when she takes her nap. Maybe he should have done this all when she was asleep.
He decided that he should try to distract her instead, “Aria, do you want to help me take the ornaments off the tree instead of taking them from the box?”
She scoffed and pointed at the Christmas tree. He assumed she’s asking for clarification so he gave her a smile and nodded.
“Turn tree lights on!” Oh. She looked determined and ready to argue. It’s true what people say about children being mirrors of their parents. He was going to have to tell Henry to watch his behavior around her.
“No, sweetie. No more lights.” Alex said as he pulled out his phone and started recording, because knowing his daughter, this was not going to be ending soon. “Aria, can you help me?”
“Turn. Lights. On.” Maybe he shouldn’t be encouraging this behavior, but there will be time to be a good parent later.
“I can’t. Christmas is over. We need to put the tree away.” He watched as she walked around the tree, unsatisfied with his answer. They luckily never had a problem with her messing with the tree as it was up, though she did have fun playing with the button, on the cord connecting the tree lights and the outlet, which changed the settings of the lights so Alex was unsurprised when she went to press the button. Obviously, nothing happened since the cord wasn’t plugged into the wall.
Aria sighed loudly and threw herself into a sitting position on the floor, clutching the button. “Why no? Why no light?” She sounded heartbroken, and if Alex weren’t trying so hard not to laugh at her dramatics, he would have picked her up and assured her everything is alright and that the tree and its lights would be back up before she knew it.
“No more lights, because Christmas is over, baby girl. Do you want to help?” As much of a dramatic and feisty kid she might be, she is also super sweet and loves to help clean up, and give hugs and kisses to anyone that might be sad, whether it is one of her dads, her toys, or a character in a book someone had read to her. It is significantly harder to tell her she couldn’t do the last one.
She stared at the phone in his hand, and tilted her head in confusion. Distantly, Alex thought about David doing the same thing whenever Aria would play with a new toy that made an odd sound. Toddlers and dogs are incredibly similar. “Remote?”
Maybe showing her how he could turn off her bedroom light with his phone, that one time, was a bad idea.
Alex shook his head, “No, it doesn’t work on the tree.” Aria sighs again before dropping herself into a fully horizontal position, arms flung out to her sides, button in hand. Alex couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore, but he quickly tried to scuffle it. Though it was a short laugh, it seemed to upset her even more. She jumped up and grabbed an ornament off the tree and ran to her room, the phone camera following her actions, but Alex not stopping the act. Not only was the moment too funny to stop recording, but the ornament she grabbed was plastic and plain and meant nothing.
She shouted from underneath her door frame as she held up the ornament above her head in victory, “No lights, no balls!” before she tossed it safely onto her bed. Alex can’t stop himself from laughing anymore which only aggravated her further. He sent the video to Henry immediately after, who was at the shelter, and got a sappy response back about loving him, and loving their daughter, and loving their life. It would seem like an odd reply to a video of their daughter practically throwing a fit, but it fits. It works. It’s them. Alex knows that if Henry was not so busy and had time to form a well-thought-out response, that he would quote something that would bring him to tears, or make him laugh again. Alex fell a little bit more in love.
Alex did eventually control his laughter and was able to sit her down to explain that it’s okay the holiday season is ending, but what makes it so special is that it’s temporary and comes around once a year, not year-round. He followed up by explaining that it’s alright to be sad to see it go and suggested that maybe she should play with the gifts she received to cheer her up. He should probably apologize to his parents for not listening to them all those years ago. It was truly good advice. Or he could just never mention it and act as if the whole ordeal never occurred and that his daughter is a well-behaved angel constantly.
A year later, the three of them and an almost one-year-old baby boy, are sitting on the couch watching old family movies on Henry’s laptop. Videos of Alex’s childhood, Henry’s childhood, and Aria’s three and a half years of chaos. Aria laughs hysterically at herself when they watch the Christmas tree tantrum of the year prior. She asks what she was doing that for and why, as if she wouldn’t do it again. And she would if given the chance, but Henry now makes them wait until the kids are down for the night to put away the decorations.