‘Daddy, I’m Going to Hawaii…’

For Christmas my two-year-old daughter, Belle, got a Barbie suitcase, complete with a handle, wheels and a princess outfit.

She was psyched. She toted it around the house declaring, “Daddy, I’m going to Hawaaaaiiiiiii.” Then she blew the sweetest kiss.

“Aloha, Belle,” I said. “Bring back some macadamia nuts for us.”

“OK,” she said. Then, as if the logistics of the trip finally dawned on her, Belle paused and said: “Daddy, I need a pack ‘n play for Hawaaaaiiii.”

“Daddy can’t afford Hawaii, Sweet Peanut,” I told Belle. “But I’ve got a great song about Christmas in Hawaii for you!” I put on Bing Crosby’s classic CD, White Christmas.

Bing crooned, “Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to youuuuu.” Belle was not impressed. Somehow, to her, 1940s music + Wisconsin weather didn’t = Hawaii.

But her travel plans never would have left the ground anyway because she got the flu three days before Christmas. We thought Belle was better on Christmas Eve and drove to Grandma’s house—but then the sun beat down on her and she threw up again in her car seat, triggering our baby John to start crying. My wife and I looked at each other and said, “Merry Christmas!” It reminded me of that Nat King Cole favorite, “Barf chunks roasting in the open sun… Johnny screaming out his lungs…”

We made some great Christmas memories—we laughed, sang carols and ate with family. Belle even gave me a great present--her first official use of her trainer potty! Woo-hoo!

And we saw some old friends, Katie and Rick. Belle was so shy during their visit that she barely said hello to Rick. But, of course, after they left, she was like, “Katie and Rick visited! I LOVE Rick! I LOVE him.” That’s girls for you. In high school, I’d try to talk to some girl—usually in Band Class because I’m a nerd—and she’d be like, “I’m not talking to you because I’m out of your league.” And then five years later at a reunion everyone’s like, “Oh yeah, she totally wanted to date you.”

Poor Belle was too sick to open Christmas presents with everyone else. She felt better by the end of Christmas Day, but by the next day Grandma and I got her stomach flu, and her Uncle Jay got it the following day—on his birthday. I bet he was thinking: “Belle, you shouldn’t have gotten me the flu—you overspent again!”

Hawaii sounds pretty good right about now. May you have a happy new year, filled with tropical sunshine and macadamia nuts.