It's the Most Annoying Time of the Year....

Today is November 3rd.

My eleven year old started singing the 12 days of Christmas.  Even after explaining, theologically speaking, he should start on Christmas and go until the Feast of the Epiphany, even after pointing out the All Carols All the Time Radio Station hasn't started it's annual shtick, even after begging as I'm driving to his school, "I'll let you start up the day after Thanksgiving," he would not be deterred from starting a Yuletide revolution in the car.

I'd had them singing to help the ten year old with songs she has to know for a Veterans' day concert; "The Star Spangled Banner," "She's a Grand Old Flag" and "America the Beautiful."  We'd closed with two Fall favorites, "The Notre Dame Fight Song," and "Five Little Speckled Frogs."  But in the back row, came a deliberately off key and very loud...

"ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS..."
and the back row, swept in the wake of his silliness, joined in.  All off key, all loud, even Paul.   I pointed out, we're driving. It's morning.  There is traffic.

"ON THE THIRD DAY OF CHRISTMAS..."
They did run into the technical difficulties of remembering the three French Hens, there are a lot of birds in that song.  

I reminded everyone we ought to celebrate Thanksgiving before Christmas, and if they wanted to skip Thanksgiving, I'd let the school know to keep them in school that last week of November.

The song made its way to the second row, with editorial content.  "You can't leave us at school, we have Thanksgiving off!"  "FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!"

My google map says the road from here to their school is only fifteen miles.  It just feels so much longer.   I opt for the diversionary tactic of the radio, hoping to find some sing along song they love. I am stuck at a light by which point, the kids get to the nine ladies dancing.  An argument breaks out over who gets to say which item.  It turns out, no one wants the maids a milking, and everyone wants the five rings.

I have failed to quash the pre-Turkey day singing special.  I can only stew, ignore, or join.   It is then, the true spirit of Parenting knowledge shown in my eyes.  I knew how to recapture the car.  It would be without promises. It would be without nags. It would happen without bribes, without scolds and finger wags.   I opened my mouth, and sang forth clear and loud, "ON THE TENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS..." and the silent night in my car, rang clear and profound.  I sang all the rest of the carol that ride.  Everyone else sat silent once I swallowed my pride.   It wasn't the prettiest song you'll ever hear, but I sang it with gusto.  I sang it with cheer.

And I told my tween son as he got out of the car, I love you very much.  He said, "Har-dee-har-har."