A Boy Called Christmas

If there's one thing you can depend on with kids, it's that they'll always surprise you. 

"Mum, can we watch this one tonight?" The Dude asked me as I frantically sweated it out in the kitchen trying not to destroy dinner. 

"Yeah, no problem," I replied, as I put the finishing touches to Lala's vegetarian shepherd's pie, not daring to take my eyes off it as I popped it in the oven.

"Did you even look?" The Dude asked, in that snarky teenage manner he  has perfected in recent months.

"Eh?" I replied, as his comment sunk in and I shot a sneaky glance at the TV. "Of course I looked..." I started to retort, in one of my more indignant tones, when I spotted the image on the screen.  Instead of the usual shoot 'em up action fests which he has become fond of lately, there was a Christmassy image of a very innocent looking boy in snow and if I wasn't mistaken he seemed to have a pet mouse. The words A Boy Called Christmas were splattered above the image in ornate gold letters and there could be no doubt this film is aimed squarely at kids - as in under twelves.

"What's that?" I asked.

The Dude shot me a smug smile. "I knew you didn't look."

I dismissed his observation with a wave of my hand. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"

I'm treated to a raised eyebrow that lets me know he's letting me away with my dismissive handwaving but he's not forgetting my little porky pie of a white lie. "It's the movie I want to watch tonight. It looks good."

Something explodes in the oven but instead of investigating I look more closely at my son, and beneath the carefully constructed teenage hair and laconic attitude I see the sparkle of childhood wonder and excitement twinkling in his eyes. The little boy who would get lost in Christmas classics like The Polar Express, Elf and Miracle On 34th Street is still in there and my heart melts. "Well, if you're sure you want to watch it, then yeah, of course we can watch it."

"Yeah!" he happily declares as he presses the select button.

Two hours later, a huge smile on his face, he proclaimed A Boy Called Christmas to be "one of the best Christmas movies ever!"

And he's not wrong. Destined to become a classic - A Boy Called Christmas is visually delicious with a tight plot that all comes together quite nicely. However, it has an edge and doesn't flinch from the brutal topic of loss and death which sadly is the reality for so many and hits particularly hard at this time of year.

The film presents a new angle on the origin story of Christmas - taking major elements of Christmas traditions from various countries and weaving them together to make a plausible story. I particularly liked how Christmas crackers were woven into the tale.

The young hero - Nikolas - can be a bit too starry eyed at times but at the end of the day, that's the whole point. He's the incorruptible soul whose destiny is to bring joy and cheer to the world. So, if you can't have the future Father Christmas as the ultimate do-gooder then who can you have!

The performances are spot on and I personally loved Maggie Smith's unapologetic narrator and Jim Broadbent's eccentric king but special mention must go to the unrecognisable Kristen Wiig as the hateful aunt. However, most of all, I loved how my son got lost in the magic of a Christmas movie one more time. It was an early Christmas gift that I didn't see coming.

Tacky Tourist Day And Doing What You Gotta Do!

It was dress up as "a tacky tourist" day at school today and to be honest - I had no idea what that meant! So, I was thrilled when it was obvious the Dude had forgotten all about it this morning.

A Tourist - Not Very "Tacky"

I was happily (and carefully!) "guiding" him along and almost had him at the door when La-la emerged from her bedroom resplendent as a "tacky tourist" - right down to a pair of binoculars hanging from her neck! Before I could stop her, she looked the Dude up and down and said, "is THAT your tacky tourist outfit?" Aaaaaagh! The Dude looked at me, "oh my God, it's tacky tourist day mummy!" he announced in a very accusatory tone of voice - as if a suspicion was starting to form in his mind as to why I had been "herding" him like a very attentive sheepdog all morning.

I Be Like...

The Dude Be like...

I sighed. It was 9 am. He was supposed to be sitting at his desk at 9:10 am. We did NOT have time to figure out a tacky tourist outfit for him. So, I went full on Irish Mammy - "if you wanted to have a tacky tourist outfit then you should have thought about it last night blah, blah, blah... I warned you blah, blah, blah..." He narrowed his eyes. I could see him calculating - how do I get her to shut up? Then he spoke - in a voice I didn't know he had! 🤨 "All I need is a hat." - They were his words but his tone was - "so stop losing your shit, crazy lady." I looked at him, somewhat nonplussed, "ok go find a hat," I told him. He found the rattiest old baseball cap he could and stuck it on his head and, even though he looked like a fisherman, I told him he looked like the tackiest tourist on the planet and shoved him out the door! I find the more I do this mammying thing, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do! Even if that means telling a big fat lie for the sake of everyone's mental health!