Twenty-one years ago, as we labored towards Christmas 1997, the hottest Christmas song on the radio (or, for that matter, anywhere) was Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want From Christmas Is You.’
It was bouncy. It was fun. It was ubiquitous. It annoyed the heck out of my friends who could really sing.
And as 1997 lurched towards its end, I was lurching about, too. I was heavily pregnant with our youngest child, and laboring hard before I really started labor to make sure that I would leave work tidy while I was out on maternity leave.
The song was everywhere, and it was inescapable, and all I really did want for Christmas was to see that baby, because if I was seeing that baby, it meant I wasn’t pregnant any more, and on my fourth child, I was really tired of being pregnant.
‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ was my mantra.
And then this happened, and for too many terrifying hours, all I *did* want for Christmas was to hold that little baby, and ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ was my prayer.
Spoiler Alert: he’s upstairs watching TV and the only thing that’s wrong with him is that he still doesn’t want to clean up his room.
So I give my thanks to James Corden for putting together this Carpool Karaoke with Mariah Carey and friends. The song that became my mantra that became my prayer has now become its own little tune, a Happy Birthday of sorts for my quirky, talented, funny, horn-playing, smart not-so-little guy.
© E. Stocking Evans 2018