Up On The Housetop

It was many years before I realized reindeer had hooves. You know, because of that song:

Up on the housetop reindeer paws...

Songs are written to reflect the times. Up On The Housetop takes me back to a simpler time when there was no such thing as soccer moms or the obsessive-compulsive overprotectiveness we see hanging like a black cloud over little kids who just want to play and pretend. Take, for example, the booty little Will gets:

Next comes a stocking for little Will
Oh just see what a glorious fill
Here is a hammer with lots of tacks
Also a ball and a whip that cracks.

Will doesn't get these things in modern times because Mom figures he'd probably bonk himself repeatedly in the head with the hammer and swallow the tacks. God only knows what he'd do with the whip.

Hey Mom, do your research and make sure that toy isn't painted with lead! Watch out for those button eyes on that stuffed animal! Don't forget the knee, shin, elbow, and head gear to go along with that new tricycle!

Oh, the good old days, when his whip was a boy's best friend.