Ya Gotta Love B-more, Hon

We love to visit 34th street in Baltimore's Hampden neighborhood during the holidays. It's a small street of real people whose Christmas kitsch got out of hand somewhere along the line and they just let it snowball. This year we went the night they turned on the lights for the 2008 season--a great taste of Baltimore working-class culture.

We were excited about taking the girls, but there was a long wait between the time the internet SAID the place would be lit and the time it actually WAS. Alan stayed in one spot where he could video, and I tried to keep our tots happy by following them all over the place. However, they just kept getting grouchier and grouchier, especially Evelyn, who ended up melting down on a curb. At this point, we were separated from Alan, cold, and paying no attention to the festivities. Alan got the video (complete with shouts from local Balti-morons, my apologies to our readers' sensibilities), while the girls and I continued our downward spiral somewhere in the crowd.

When Alan found us, I had "that tone" in my voice and was ready to toss people out of my way in a bee-line for our car. We started back and Evelyn, being herself, started to run down the sidewalk. Suddenly, she stopped and, flapping her arms in rage, just exploded into shrieks of "I CAN'T RUUUUUUUUNNN!!!!!"

Then my Mommy radar kicked in. I looked at her feet. She had on Amelia's shoes, two sizes too small. (One of the reasons it is speculated that the Grinch hated Christmas.) Our hearts immediately grew three sizes, and Alan stripped off the too-tight shoes and carried her the rest of the way, after which we were all ready to welcome our love of the TRUE spirit of Christmas.