I've always stated that my father is one of my biggest heroes. 

This is not say to that he does not do some of the craziest things sometimes that can really cause one to scratch the proverbial head.

Case in point: my little chat with my mother last night.

Well I should back up and give a bit of history to this current rampage that my father is on. 

A few months ago, our precious little terrier got really sick. She is still very young, was seemingly very healthy, and then just turned up sick one day. My parents rushed her to whatever emergency clinic there is for the canine persuasion and then proceeded to fork out more money on the treatment than they ever did for my college career. 

I'm not complaining. I love this dog. 

Regardless, considering that it was a sizable sum of money, considering that our economy is not necessarily at her all-time peak, considering that my parents have suffered a bit due to this fact, and considering that my father began to realize he was pouring his money out on a DOG, he did what any level-headed, sane, competent, middle-aged man would do:

He vetoed Christmas.

Now, mind you. As my mother was relaying this information to me, I stopped her and made her repeat what she had said,

"Yes. Your father is doing away with Christmas this year. He said that the payment to keep 'that dumb dog' alive was going to be our Christmas."

I'd like to take a moment and point out two very important things.

1. My father is a MINISTER. Christmas is kinduvabigdeal in the Church. Hello? Birth of Christ? Coming of the Savior? 

2. My 18-year-old brother, despite obviously  having no say in the life-sustainment of aforementioned dog, is still living at home, but would not be celebrating Christmas like the rest of his normal friends. Nor. mal.

Consequently, my mother geeeeeeently mentioned to my father that his suggestion of vetoing Christmas might have been one of the STUPIDEST IDEAS HE'S EVER HAD. I'm certain that her delivery of such a statement was worthy of molasses sitting in the sun on a summer day in Mississippi but it got her point across nonetheless.  My mother is a fine, southern woman but when she thinks you're being a bit of a dimwit, you get the picture. Just with sugah on top.

So that matter was put to rest.

Or so everyone thought. 

My father, refusing to be bested, made a bit of a comeback - which brings me to last night's conversation.

My mother informs me that my father is now vetoing the assembling of the Christmas tree this year.

And I'm saying, "This is just ridiculous. I'm going to call him and tell him to knock some sense into his head. And now."

Then my mother geeeeeeeently informs me that she believes that might be the stupidest idea I'VE ever had because she is beginning to realize that my father's desperate attempts to do away with Christmas this year stem from the fact that this is the first year that his eldest daughter (yours truly for those of you who don't know the head count in my family) will not be with the family this year because she lives overseas.

And I lost it.

Cried like a baby.

Looks like my father is in silent protest.  Of Christmas.

Furthering the fact that he really is my biggest hero.