Old Jingles

Old Jingles


We all have that singing, dancing, repetitive, now annoying Christmas decoration. We were in the store, and on the shelf was this whimsical very amusing, how does it do that, figurine. And somehow, through the magic of marketing it danced and sang its way into our shopping bag. And now every Christmas we have to live with it's annoying talents for a month.
For us, it's a dog wearing a toque with a big old bell on the end of it. You press it's paw and it starts to dance from side to side ringing that annoying bell. Up and down back and forth he dances singing Jingle Bells and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. And it's not adults squeezing it's paw repetitively creating the overheard, worn out, if I hear that stupid dog again I'll go crazy. It's one of our four blessed grandkids!
At first it was fun watching the first grandkid on her first Christmas react to the scary dancing dog. Her eyes would get wide and try to make out exactly what she was seeing. By her second Christmas she would laugh a bit and then turn to hug grandpa or grandma because it made her a bit unsure about her safety. And because grandpas and grandmas are 'hug junkies', we would do it over and over again.
By the third Christmas she played with it like its a hot fire. She would cautiously squeeze the spot on it's paw as if it's hot. Then she'd jump back as it started to dance and sing and laugh her head off.
It was all fun when we only had one grandkid. Then the second granddaughter came along. And at Christmas, when we're introducing her to Jingles (the first granddaughter named him) the first one, who is now four, is burning up two double 'A' batteries playing it over and over..... and did I mention OVER again!
Time and Christmases past and our oldest granddaughter is now eight. Two more grandkids have joined the fold. Twin boys, who are now three. THREE!
This year we removed the batteries from Jingles, and lied. Yes lied. Lied to our own grandkids, that Jingles was broken. I know there must be a special extra hot spot in hell for grandparents who lie to four grandkids. But, I couldn't take another year of Jingles throwing his head back and forth ringing that bell on the end of his toque singing at the top of his voice Jingle Bells and We Wish You a Merry Christmas!
This master, hell bound plan of grandmas and mine lasted but one Sunday visit. The next Sunday, the well schooled eight year old in battery toys, reasoned that it probably needed new batteries.
"Ah,..Too bad grandpa doesn't have any more 'AA' batteries" I lied again. Pour more coals on the fire.
"No worries" Gabriella sang, "I'll get them from another toy."
What! She can't do that can she? I didn't see that coming! I would of removed every battery in the house if I thought she'd grasped that knowledge. Or I would of kidnapped old Jingles and hid him under heavy boxes in the garage. Transplanting batteries! Now I could only hope for a 'AA' rejection between toys.
She went through all the battery toys like my wife at a BOGO shoe sale. Toys flying everywhere. Assessing size, of battery, and if she could live without that toy till stingy old grandpa got around to buying new batteries. Gabriella and Charlotte (now five) both agreed that the 'Little People' castle would still play fine without its two 'AA' batteries.
My only hope was they would put them in old Jingles butt the wrong way. Mix up the positive and negative poles. That's when their dad, who hasn't done anything around here since he was 16, made the girls aware of the laws of polarity. It was at this point I did something that I'm not proud of. Without thinking I said that if Gabriella got it working she could take it home with her.
I have now ruined the boy's Christmas from here on after, for all eternity with this singing blight of a decoration. More coals on my fire.
But my problem is solved. No more Jingles!
So because of the fact my wife was now down one decoration she went out and bought this ever so cute snowman surrounded by kittens that do a squeaky sing song of Frosty the Snowman. The grandkids just love it!

Bob Niles