I’ve made the executive decision (in life) that A Christmas Story is the least cozy, most scary and creepy Christmas movie to have ever been produced. Between the father with the weird leg-lamp fetish, the obsession about Turkey dinner to Ralphie’s mom actually punishing them with a gigantic bar of soap? WEIRD.
Then, why do I insist on catching it on TBS every.single.year, you ask? Well, maybe it’s because their Christmas isn’t that idyllic, unreachable type of image Pinterest vomits at you. Instead, it’s real life, in a I-live-in-Indiana-in-the-40s kind of way.
I appreciate the Christmas realness, man.
But if I’m being frank, I hope your Christmas morning looks nothing like the one straight out of A Christmas Story. That’s just scary.
Rather, I hope it’s somewhere between Ralphie’s scary Christmas morning and the one Martha Stewart makes happen in her Connecticut home.