What Baby Brother heard: "Baby Brother, do you want to go back in time and help Christopher Columbus discover America with me tomorrow? And go to Hogwarts? And lick to the center of a Tootsie pop?"
That is the only explanation I could think of for his reacting this way:
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: ... yes?
MOM: (exclamations of wondrous joy at this improbable miracle)
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: WHY IS THIS DIFFERENT FROM THE FIFTY-THREE OTHER TIMES I TOOK HIM TO TARGET THIS YEAR I DON'T UNDERSTAND.
But then, suddenly, I did.
One year my workplace had a Christmas party instead of a work meeting. The party consisted of some important work information, followed by treats and a game.
Coincidentally, our work meetings also tended to consist of work information followed by treats and games. The only real difference was that this time we called it a "Christmas party" instead of "December workplace meeting." I'm pretty sure more people came to that party than to any meeting before or since.
It's that word: "Christmas." It's like word caffeine. Attach it to something average, and it becomes the best ever. Attach it to something people don't really like, and it's suddenly appealing.
Shopping = chore.
Christmas shopping = epic journey of untold magnitude!
Listening to small children sing loudly and off-key = legal form of torture.
Elementary school Christmas recital: extreme adorableness overload and goodwill towards all mankind.
Party = a dangerous social venture resulting in untold stress.
Christmas party?! Break out the eggnog!
Okay. Let's try something.
Bills. Meh.
CHRISTMAS BILLS!!!!!
...nope. Still meh.
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