Copyright 1997

 

 

 

 

Rudolph, the rudely repetitive, revved up reindeer

 

The sky remained black, though the hour neared dawn. I left the quiet of our bedroom and stepped into the startling, tinny refrain of “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

          “Oh, no,” I panicked, my heart racing. “They’ve gone for the good stuff – the $4.50 craft-show reindeer.”

          Afraid that burglars had struck, I glanced toward the television set – still there.

          Sure the place looked ransacked. That’s a given. But the lone pawnable item – the TV – was in its spot. So was the reindeer.

          It would follow that this newest addition to our 7-year-old’s collection would begin playing at will, three weeks after joining us. On its ride home in the hands of a proud first-grader, the reindeer gladly complied when its nickel-sized metal disc was pushed. The first couple of times were cute. But it refused to stop playing.

          Each time the notes sounded the “You’ll go down in his-tor-eee” line, we held our breath, hopeful that this would be the finale. But the music would start all over again, a reindeer possessed.

          Back home, following countless non-stop rounds of “Rudolph” and an equal number of suggestions regarding the reindeer’s fate, Husband finally jimmied the little disc in its back just so. We stared at one another in silence, smiling. Peace had returned. Now the boys could resume bickering without the interference of a music-box marathon.

          This character, for all its quirkiness, has added the joy of the unexpected to the season. His free spirit will be the source of stories for many Christmases to come. I can picture our son next year, opening his storage box of reindeer, ornaments and hand-made projects. He’ll hold the musical reindeer for all to see and ask, “Remember when we couldn’t get it to stop, and how it would start all by itself?”

          On the other hand, it might choose to play music while packed away for the year. It may decide to make life in a box miserable for the other confined treasures.

          That’s it. He’s staying out. I’ll not spend three off-seasons worrying that he’s taunting the others. How could they defend themselves –by smothering Rudolph in glitter? What frazzled condition would they be in by the time next December rolls around?

          On a display shelf – near the TV and far from the attic – he can play whenever the mood strikes; we’ll get used to it. The little guy could even serve as a home security system.