My Coat of Many Colors

Unlike Halloween packages, Christmas packages get me excited. I just know there's got to be something fun or tasty for me in one of them, and this time of the year, there are lots of boxes arriving! So when Mom said, "Yes! This one finally came for Gus," a few weeks ago, I thought Christmas had come early!

I was sad to find out it was just a sweater - a red and black checkered sweater that looks suspiciously like my very first sweater. Mom said, "Look, Gussy! A fancy, new sweater for you in Christmas colors!" I hesitated to point out two obvious facts to her. One, green and red are Christmas colors. You can squeeze silver and gold in there, too, and maybe even pretty ribbons of blue, but black? And two - I already have my own natural coat of many colors that my mama gave to me.** I don't need a darn sweater!

This is not a Christmas sweater!

Big Brother feels the same way about needing a coat, although he doesn't have a natural coat onto which he can fall back when Mom says, "It's 39 degrees out there! You're wearing a coat!" When she says this to me, I can say, "Indeed, I am already wearing a coat," although I am usually muttering that to myself while Mom crams the turtleneck part of my fancy sweater over my head. Big Bro tried leaving his brand new winter jacket on the school bus, but he saw the downside of that plan when Mom said, "If you were wearing it, you wouldn't have been able to leave it there." Our eyes met, and mine said to his, "Facts, Big Bro. She's got you there." He found it real quick, though, when Mom said it would cost him $60 - $30 for the one he lost and $30 more for the one he was going to buy to replace it.

When it snowed for the first time, and Mom said, "I need to run down and get Gus's winter coat I bought out of storage," I ran to hide in my Big Joe beanbag. A freaking ski jacket is what it is! Do I ski? No. If I don't need a sweater, I certainly do not need a ski jacket! Someone needs to take that woman's Amazon Prime card.

Slopes, anyone?

The temporary loss of Big Brother's new jacket and my hate for the ski jacket were all Mom could take.

"Why won't anyone around here wear a coat?!" she asked in exasperation.

"Why do you care so much?!" we asked back in exasperated unison.

The silence that stood between us was deafening.

"Why do I care so much?" Mom repeated quietly. "Why do I care?" Her shoulders sagged. I could feel her disappointment. Somehow she thought we should know this answer. I wanted to go to her, but I was on Big Brother's side on this one, so I stayed rooted to my spot at his feet.

"You guys are my people," she finally replied. "That's why I care. I don't want you to be cold or get sick and I want you to have what you need. And whatever I have to do to make that happen, I'm going to do it, simply because you're my guys."

I looked at Big Brother. "She's literally breaking my heart with this," I whispered, and I couldn't stop myself from running to give her a snuggle. Big Bro came to hug it out, too, and his embrace said he also forgave me for being a traitor.

Later, he and I talked it over. He said he was going to wear the coat without complaint, because Mom's love for us was pretty much all wrapped up in that jacket and my sweater and, yes, also unfortunately in the ski jacket. He said Mom's coat fixation was a good reminder for both of us that sometimes you just do stuff for the people you love and who love you, even if it's just something dumb (his words, not mine) like wearing the coat because your mom wants you to. He said this is also why we have to watch 1,000 versions of A Christmas Carol with Dad and why I have to tolerate Uncle Bailey, and he said doing these things for our loved ones is what really matters this time of the year. He hopes there are some good packages for him, too, under our tree, but when all the wrapping paper is cleaned up, we'll be left with Mom and his coat and my sweater and Dad and A Christmas Carol marathons and, yes, that darn ski jacket.

So this Christmas, take a lesson from my wise Big Brother. Take the time to do the things you don't want to do - for the people who you love and who love you . . . simply because they're your people, and you know they care about you. Drive 12 hours through the night to get there in time to sing corny Christmas carols. Eat that nasty ambrosia salad your grandma makes with a smile on your face. Play cards with your grandpa. Watch the video of your niece's holiday concert with real interest. Ask your sister-in-law about her bursitis and show real concern. Wear the darn sweater, even if you have your own coat.

Listen to that same story of a Christmas long ago like you've never heard it before and take heart. Be kind and thoughtful, and in doing so, bring back the hope that came in a small package that first Christmas night.

Please, Santa, bring me something other than squeaky tennis balls!

#ruffhousefxbg

** Editor's note - A special nod to Dolly Parton's original Coat of Many Colors. My mom sings it to me all the time when the sun shines on my beautiful, multi-colored, brindle coat.