I was in the store the other day, and surprisingly, they were playing Christmas music already. Here it is still 18 days to go until Christmas, and they already have the decorations up in the stores, and they are playing Christmas music. It seems that every year, they start a little earlier.

As I listened to the music, I realized that some of the Christmas songs are rather dreadful. One of the sappiest ones that has been inflicted upon me is Amy Grant’s Grown-up Christmas List, in which dearest Amy wishes all wars would end, there would be no more famine, husbands and wives wouldn’t divorce, and cheesecake wouldn’t be fattening. Perhaps she also wishes for unbreakable nail polish in one of the verses. I don’t recall all her grown-up wishes.

Well, in the spirit of having a grown-up Christmas list, I’ve got one wish for Christmas that has to rank near the top. Since dearest Amy already has taken care of thermonuclear war and the Israeli Palestinian problem, I don’t have to put that on my list. Instead, what tops my list is: No more 12 Days of Christmas parody songs. Please. You know the ones I mean. “On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: four calling cards, three french toasts, two turtle necks, and a beer in a tree.” There are far too many of these parody songs. The original is bad enough. Please, please, please. No more.

That’s all I want for Christmas.