When I was a little girl, every year, my parents would take me to see the Nutcracker ballet. I was enthralled. I knew then and there that I wanted to be a ballerina and I wanted to play Clara and I wanted a nutcracker of my very own. For health reasons (not to mention my complete lack of coordination!) the first two never happened. Well one out of three isn't so bad, right? I had my sights set on getting the perfect nutcracker. Every. Single. Year. I would ask my mother for a nutcracker for Hannukah, and every.single.year. without fail, I spent a nutcracker-less 8 nights. She would always ask me afterwards "oh I didn't realize that you were serious about that?" Apparently it appearing on my wishlist consecutively for 10 years in a row just didn't give her the hint.
Finally, Palmetto Belle took matters into her own hands and got me a nutcracker when she was in Germany. He was amazing. I named him Friedrich. After one of the Von Trapp children. Yes. Seriously. However, my love of nutcrackers did not subside. I wanted more. Every shop or Christmas market we went to, I would always have to check out the nutcracker section to find the perfect one.
Then I got a job working at a Christmas shop. And I saw HIM.
€. Even with my discount, that's enough where I can't come home and say "oh hi dear, I just spent $100 on a piece of wood with a furry robe" without my husband peeing himself.
Every time I came in to work, I admired him. When we sold him, I got scared that I would never see him again. Thankfully, he came back in stock. I knew that one day, he would be mine. Then on Wednesday, I was at work, putting new merchandise out on the floor, and I got the job of working with the Nutcrackers. Oh. Darn.
My coworker handed me a nutcracker and asked me to tag him and put him on the shelf. I took one look at him and said "no I can't." While he is definitely not as tall or as regal, he was a lot more wallet- friendly. There was no way I could leave him in the store overnight to fend for himself. Say hello to my little friend.
|how cute is he?|
I didn't know what to name him- he is royalty after all and you can't exactly name a royal Jerry or Mickey, so I just called him Sir. He now rests comfortably on top of our wine table. (Yes, I realize that it is July and I have a nutcracker on display in my house. I don't care.)
Stay tuned for an update to this story in which Sir's two big brothers join the Family S home (have I mentioned that the store now has TWO big Mouse King Nutcrackers?) and when Masha builds a wooden vermin Christmas diorama right near her menorah. Totally normal.