There's a great deal of humor to be found in Christmas if one looks closely enough. In fact, some of the most beloved Christmas tales, such as Dickens's "A Christmas Carol" and Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas are actually morality tales with some dark humor at the center of them. Even the gospel rendition of the Christ birth could be interpreted with a humorous sidekick. Shepherds as witnesses and no vacancy signs have their degree of levity when you think about it.
But the chestnut tradition, in Christmas, is one of those that no one has been able to explain. Sure, there's the song (love the Nat King Cole rendition best), but chestnuts? Last I checked, chestnuts were a close cousin to buckeyes, and these nuts are poisonous. Chestnuts? Really? On an open fire? Give me a break. I've never seen one. Never eaten a chestnut. Don't want to. It's too nutty.
Otherwise, I love nuts. I'm nuts for nuts, actually.
But I've never read a single Christmas letter . . . ever . . . where a family told me they enjoyed roasting their chestnuts on an open fire. And lived to tell about it.
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