[Ed. note: Holy crap my parents are adorable.]
Yes. You heard me. I triple-dog dare you not to devolve into a nine-year old kid complete with shining saucer eyes and a daffy grin the moment you set foot in the “Christmas Story House” in Cleveland.
How can you not giggle as you squeeze yourself into the cabinet under the kitchen sink where Randy wails, “Daddy’s going to kill Ralphie!”?
Who can resist pretending to be getting their mouths washed out with Lifebuoy soap?
Or pretending to be calling Mrs. Schwartz to tell him the terrible word that your son heard from HER son?
Oh yes, and that HEAVY blue bowling ball!
The “Major Award” ever-gleaming in the window completes the picture.
Yes, it’s pure corn. But I triple-dog dare you to leave this place without feeling a glow in your heart and wistfully humming “Jingle Bells.”