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The Year Kenny Loggins Ruined Christmas

Hyperbole and a Half:

The Year Kenny Loggins Ruined Christmas: The year I learned that Christmas did not, in fact, originate as a celebration of my amazing ability to temporarily transform into a "good" child for a few weeks was the year my grandparents took me to see their church's nativity play.... From my grandparents' flowery explanation and frequent use of the word "miracle," I went in expecting to be blown away by the production. Unfortunately... the story just seemed to center around everyone being really impressed with Jesus and there wasn't much suspense and not a single battle scene. I could see that the story had potential, but I was deeply disappointed by the whole experience.

By the time my grandparents dropped me off at home, I had convinced myself that I needed to take matters into my own hands and reinvent the birth of Christ so that it conformed to my expectations.... I walked through my front door with purpose and gathered my family members in the living room to tell them about my vision. I was going to rewrite the birth of Jesus Christ and I was going to make it POP. My mom, always wanting to nurture my creative side, agreed on behalf of everyone that we should go forward with the production. I would be playing the part of Mary and my dad would be Joseph. My aunt and my grandma would play the wise men. My mom would be filming...

[...]

For a moment, it seemed as though my outburst had succeeded in bringing my family back into a more serious mindset. But after a few moments of tense silence, my aunt quietly squeaked:

Kenny Loggins wouldn't beat the baby Jesus...

It was over. Any hope I had ever had of getting my family members to act out their parts with integrity was shattered. They laughed and laughed until I thought they were going to asphyxiate on their own wretched spittle.

My mom eventually realized that it was her maternal duty to step in and discipline me when I did things like strike the baby Jesus repeatedly with a blunt object, so she tried to pull herself together and send me to my room:

GO TO YOUR ROOM!

You aren't supposed to hit things with sticks.

Especially not Jesus.

Or...

KEENNNYYY LOGGINNNSSS...

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