This is what you get when you take a tired mom who has been reading a lot of Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss and force her to listen to “Christmas Shoes” by Bob Carlisle one too many times.

That Bob Carlisle!
That Bob Carlisle!
I do not like
that Bob Carlisle!

Bob Carlisle: Listen to my song awhile?

I do not like it,
Bob Carlisle.
It makes me frown,
I do not smile.

Bob Carlisle: Will you listen in your car?

I will not listen
in my car.
Not when I’m near
Or when I’m far.

I do not like it,
Bob Carlisle.
It makes me frown,
I do not smile.

Bob Carlisle: Would you listen in your house? Would you listen with your spouse?

I will not listen in my house.
I will not listen with my spouse.

I will not listen
in my car.
Not when I’m near
Or when I’m far.

I do not like it,
Bob Carlisle.
It makes me frown,
I do not smile.

Bob Carlisle: You do not like it, so you say. Listen! Listen! And you may. Listen and you may I say.

Bob, If you will let me be, I will listen. You will see.

Bob Carlisle Sings "Christmas Shoes" to me.

I cannot take it anymore.

Bob Carlisle has killed me with "Christmas Shoes."

For the love of Christmas people, please stop playing that “Christmas Shoes” song. It depresses the hell outta me.