Radio Pants

Our family has a rather odd Christmas tradition that got its start over twenty years ago.  At the time Zach and Ben had a collection of small plastic figures that provided a lot of play time with each other.  These figures would sometimes be part of an elaborate array of props and story lines; at other times it would be just a couple of figures taken along to occupy the time while riding in the car.

One of Ben’s favorites was a figure he called Radio Pants.  Radio Pants went missing one day.  Everyone looked for him but it seemed he was lost.  Ben was disappointed. Occasionally there would be a renewed search, but he was not found.  It was the Christmas season and there were other distractions so the missing Radio Pants faded from our memory.

We have an artificial Christmas tree that spends most of its life packed away in two boxes that are stored above the garage with the other decorations.  Each year all the Christmas decorations are brought down and when the boys were small the excitement of the holidays usually began by assembling the tree and putting on the ornaments.

The year following the loss of Radio Pants was no exception in the routine of putting up the tree.  After placing the central “trunk” in its holder, the individual branches would be taken from the box and its twigs would be adjusted.  The color coding on the end of each branch would be checked and then it would be put into place.

During this process we came across Radio Pants clinging to one of the branches.  During their play the previous year he had evidently been placed in the tree.  We hadn’t thought to look for him there, or at least if we did, he went unnoticed.  We had a good laugh when Ben shouted, "Radio Pants"!!!

We were all happy to see him again and since the little group of plastic characters were no longer occupying the boys’ time we just left him on the tree.  He seemed perfectly happy to spend the holiday on the tree after being boxed up in the garage for a year.  When it came time to put the decorations away it was decided that Radio Pants would maintain his place on the branch and he was packed away with the tree and put above the garage.

That routine has been repeated for twenty three years.  Radio Pants emerges from the box along with his branch and spends the holidays with us.  He is a happy reminder of the many Christmas seasons we have spent together.  I look forward to seeing him each year and he doesn’t seem to mind the fact that he spends most of his life in a dark box.  I think he, like me, has to wonder how little boys can grow so quickly into men.

Merry Christmas, Radio Pants.