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Colton takes on the "deranged Easter Bunny" look!

Can you guess how our family kicked off the Christmas season? If you think it involved A Christmas Story, you’d be right! Except that we didn’t watch the movie.

On Sunday afternoon, Colton and I, along with Mom, Dad, my brothers, sister-in-law and nephew, hit the road and headed to Actors Theatre in Louisville for the stage version of the story I consider a staple of the season – a classic Christmas story (ergo the name?) that’s a must-watch at least a dozen times between Turkey Day and Christmas. We were convinced that it would be a great afternoon, leaving us with plenty of Christmas spirit and even more to talk about.

It didn’t hurt that our tickets were on the first, second and third rows, either. Most of us were bouncing off the walls (ok – especially me, Dad and Ben). But my nephew went into the whole deal thoroughly unimpressed. He’d never seen the movie, and had no idea what to expect. If you’ve seen the movie, though, (and if you haven’t, go rent or buy it today!!!), you can probably imagine the fun of watching Ralphie, Flick, Scut Farkus and the gang come to life a few feet away.

Holding true in many ways to the movie, we got the tongue-on-the-flagpole scene, the old man’s melt-downs over the furnace and the dogs, and the lamp – the major award! Straight from Italy :-) We got the Santa scene – complete with giant slide. And of course, we got that famous line on numerous occasions – You’ll shoot your eye out!

But as irony would have it, that was not the line that had my nephew going when we went to dinner at Bristol’s. While the rest of us discussed the strength of the actors, the funniest lines, what held true to the movie and what parts we’d like to have seen that were omitted (hint: fa-rah-rah-rah-rah), my nephew wanted to argue one simple point: Did Ralphie or didn’t Ralphie use the f-word.

As he was sitting across from Colton, he of course had a willing audience.

“He never says the f-word,” Colton said.

“Yes, he does. He says the f-word.”

Over and over and over the argument continued, although interrupted every 10 seconds by my brother and I.

Now, we all know he never really says it. Never says the f-dash-dash-dash word. Never really says THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words.

“Yes, he does,” my nephew insisted.

At least he has something to talk about…


Don’t forget to do your Christmas shopping right here – order a pound of Liz’s favorite coffee and a copy of Practically Painless Recipes for all the elves on your Christmas list!

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