Happy Christmas!

When we called my parents on our way to the Helena airport early on Christmas morning, my Dad answered the phone in this way:
"Happy Christmas!"

My Dad is a notorious joker, so I assumed he was pretending to be British, and continued with our conversation: Yes, we are on time. Yes, we are checking a bag. No, we have not seen Santa flying home to the North Pole. We landed in Milwaukee in the early afternoon, where we waited for my Mom, Dad, & the three dogs to pick us up. (Side note: as we stood outside waiting for them, the 20-degree Milwaukee weather actually felt balmy compared to the negative 20 we experienced walking from our car into the airport that morning. Isn't that just pathetic? The heavy hat, gloves, and scarf I wrapped myself in before we walked out of the airport seemed seriously unnecessary.)

When we got into the car, my father again wished us a "Happy Christmas". He wasn't using a British accent or anything, so I was confused. When I asked him what the deal was with "Happy Christmas" he said in a wise way, "Well, Sarah, when it's someone's birthday, what do you say?" Well, you know as well as I do that we say "Happy Birthday" when it's someone's birthday. As I sat, dumbfounded by this revelation, thinking that yet again, the old man is a lot smarter than I give him credit for, my father just smiled at me in the rear view mirror.

Chalk up another point to Dad.