Sara Padilla writes the blog Sunshine and Salad and practices parenting, prevention, and public health in her “free time”. She can be found on Twitter and Facebook, as well as exploring the interwebs through blogging and reading. She is currently at work on a memoir about her experience with loss, grief, and healing.
All I want for Christmas is a gigantic inflatable Snowman for our front yard.
Nothing too fancy. He doesn’t have to move around or anything. Inflatable Santas that pop out of chimneys over and over give me the creeps. He doesn’t have to play music. He could hold a broom. He’d be festive in a subtle way.
And he would be eight feet tall.
A large, friendly man-made of snow with a top hat and corncob pipe would be so fantastic. In a sing-song voice, I tell my family: I want! An Inflatable! Lawn display! It’s Christmas time! The boys think it’s a great idea (they are ages two and five, and they think anything inflatable is awesome).
But I have yet to convince my husband. I first mentioned wanting such a snowman while out shopping at Lowe’s (or Home Depot, I can never remember which store is which), and he was horrified. This was five years ago, but each year his anti-inflatable resolve weakens. I can tell.
I know they’re tacky. That’s partially the point. I tried to strengthen my case by bringing in my sister, a well-known Christmas fanatic, but she took my husband’s side.
“Oh, Sara…” she shook her head and started to laugh.
Every year, beginning around Thanksgiving, I boldly announce my desire for a giant, inflatable Snowman. Someday, I will get my wish.
“He would make a statement,” I explain.
“Yes, he certainly would. The wrong statement.”
He thinks holiday inflatables are kitschy and tasteless. In fact, I sense from his frown that he finds both my wish and I morally dubious.
Tasteless?!
I respectfully disagree.
We live on a busy road with plenty of traffic. Our inflatable Snowman would bring holiday cheer to our Scrooge-like neighbors who don’t like children (or at least our children, since they never make eye contact or say hello when we cross paths, which is very strange, but it’s been six years now and I’ve given up). Our inflatable Snowman would spook tiny dogs. Our inflatable Snowman would symbolize the magical Christmases of our ancestors…Okay, maybe that’s a stretch.
Our inflatable Snowman would be a wonderful thing for our children!
And, when I get my inflatable Snowman, that will be it. I swear. There will be no other holiday inflatables, not a reindeer or a Christmas mouse. Not even the smallest and most adorable penguin.
Promise.
Except maybe an inflatable Jack O’Lantern for Halloween…
