When I was younger I listened to “A Chipmunk Christmas” album over and over and over… and over… I memorized every song- word for word. I even followed along in the storybook and memorized that as well. Not bad for a five year old boy back in 1981.
I would sit in my bedroom on my bunk bed and daydream about being a part of the story. I listened to the record so much that the needle wore out on my record player. Not to mention a couple scratches were made as I attempted to play songs on repeat.
I also tried to draw the Chipmunks (with me in their world). Living in Edmonton as a child made it easy to imagine a winter wonderland. As the years went on, I watched cartoons and fantasized even more about living in magical worlds. A part of me never wanted to grow up.
And I kept my album.
Last year, we gave our daughter a portable record player. She listened to my album as her first ever record on the player. It made me happy to know that I was able to pass on a bit of magic. Even if she is a teenager, she still loves sharing in my nostalgia.
When she played the album, I sat with her. The little boy inside of me smiled with joy. A feeling of butterflies inside my stomach overcame me. The Chipmunks have brought me joy for over 35 years.
This week I plan on listening to the album again. Probably when I’m alone in our peaceful and serene home before Christmas break.
The golden harmonica will fill my heart with joy once more.