All I want for Christmas...

My son has learned to whistle. Say it with me… “Awww…”

And I have learned something, too.




How very much I hate the sound of whistling. It is annoying as hell.

He whistles ALL THE TIME. No joke. In his room, playing with his toys. In the shower. At the dinner table (which has consequently been declared a *No Whistling* zone.)

It would probably still drive me crazy even if he managed to actually whistle a tune. Which he can’t.

Me: Wow. You’ve really been working on that whistle of yours.

Him: I know. Isn’t it awesome?!

Me (in a pained whisper): Awesome.

My suspicions are that he’s doing it to keep himself out of trouble. As in, ‘if I just whistle all day, I won’t be able to say anything that will land me on Santa’s naughty list’. It’s tempting to tell him that a little bit of whistling is okay… but that too much whistling gives Santa a headache (“and don’t question me on how I know this.”)

Remember that song ‘All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth…so I can whistle ‘Merry Christmas!’”

Well, I’m praying that he loses his two front teeth soon. Very soon.