So I’m in the kitchen guzzling a non-diet soda when my kid comes up to me in his underwear, a scarf around his neck. He opens the conversation.

“Daddy!”

“What’s up kid?”

“I must sing for you!” He’s a caroler. Great.

“You do? OK then, sing for me.” He clears his throat, or maybe it’s a grunt, then he begins his serenade.

“A lease blah di blah. A lease blah di blah. A lease blah di blah [mumble, mumble, mumble] A lease e dah. I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas. I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas. I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart!”

“Wow Devin that was amazing!” I clapped. I hugged. I smiled. It was cute. I thought about teaching him the actual words of the song because people screwing up Christmas songs is one of my pet peeves. Then I thought better of it. I can’t wait until he’s singing that craptastic song Chicken Noodle Soup again.