The first Christmas we were home after Kirk got out of the army, we spent much of the time with Mom and Dad. We had lived with them for about 9 months, and after our house was move-in-able in late November, we moved out of my parents' place and into ours, but we still spent a lot of time with them. Their house was so much nicer and warmer and cleaner and warmer and finished. Did I mention it was warmer?
Among Mom's Christmas decorations, Kyle fell in love with a wooden nutcracker. It was a fairly traditional one, wearing a blue coat and hat with red knee breaches and white socks and black shoes. The hair and beard were white, and Kyle loved to move the handle on the back up and down and watch the mouth move. He made a game of putting a finger in the mouth and closing it, and he would laugh like crazy when Mom or Dad or I would put our finger in and then yell, "Ouch!" when he pulled the handle to close the mouth.
Mom used to let him carry the nutcracker around with him in his chubby little hands. He loved to feel the hair and pretty soon, the beard started to come unglued. The edge of the hat began to chip when Kyle would reach for the nutcracker, and it would fall onto the table or get dropped on the floor. I suggested to Mom that Kyle was going to ruin it and that maybe she should put it up if she wanted to keep it nice. She poopoo'ed me and told me not to worry about it, because if Kyle liked the nutcracker so much, he could have it.
Sure enough, the beard came off and the hair got messed up and the whole rim of the hat was chipped and worn. But that nutcracker started a tradition that has lasted now 15 years and has landed us a veritable army of nutcrackers that come out every year.
Throughout Kyle's life, I have given him a new nutcracker every Christmas and tried to pick one that related to something he was interested in at the time. There is an Uncle Sam from his patriotic period. A cowboy and a Civil War soldier. The year we saw "Pirates of the Caribbean," I found a pirate, complete with dreadlocks and parrot. When Kyle was interested in sword-fighting, I found a knight with a shield and a resplendent robe. When he learned to play the guitar, I found a rockstar with a mullet and sunglasses. There is a gladiator and a football player and a nutcracker on skis and a New Zealand All-Blacks rugby player. Last year, I got a real nutcracker from Fussen in Germany after we toured Neuschwanstein. He's holding a beer stein from the Haufbrauhaus and a big pretzel. This year, I have a nutcracker that looks like a medieval hunter with a bow and arrow to commemorate Kyle's role in "Robin Hood." You can learn a lot about my son by looking at the nutcrackers he's collected over the years. It's a fun trip down memory lane every time we put them out.
I'm already thinking about next year's addition. Will it be a U of L Cardinal nutcracker or a NKU Norseman or a Hilltopper? Who knows? But whatever it is, it will take its place on the table with all of the rest, surrounding The One That Started It All, who stands proudly in the center with its missing beard and chipped hat, as if to say, "Look at me! I was here first!"
