Yesterday I was wrapping presents and humming to myself, which I do often, the humming, not the wrapping, and it's usually slightly out of tune although I kid myself that it's not, when I started listening to the words I was humming, not that I was humming words because that's actually not really possible, but I was thinking about the words that I would have been singing had I been singing instead of humming, and I had some deep thoughts, believe it or not.

So it's the first day of Christmas and he brings her a partridge in a pear tree. Is the tree potted? Let's say that aloud, together. A partridge in a potted pear tree. Perhaps the pot is spotted. A partridge in a spotted potted pear tree. A nice gift, rather, assuming she had a place to put a tree, which not everyone does. I remind you I live in a trailer. No room for a tree here.

Then the second day he brings her two turtledoves, and then another partridge in a pear tree. Was the first one not enough? Did the first partridge die and so he felt the need to replace it?

Well, the song continues until the eighth day, which is when things get a little strange. He brings eight maids a milking. One must assume there were cows involved, otherwise -- how could they be milking -- they would have to be "eight maids who previously milked and are now standing decorously" -- but the song says milking. So we get eight girls and eight cows and they're all busy at their chore. What good girls! But how do you give a human being to someone else, and how do these girls feel about being a gift? I'm sure they had hopes and dreams and desires of their own, but they've been made a present and so all that pretty much flies out the window. I really think this falls under some human trafficking laws -- it can't be legal.

At least they have company the ninth day, when not only the ladies dancing arrive, but more maids a-milking.

I really think the twelve drummers drumming have it the easiest. There are only twelve of them, but check it out:

By the time we're done, we have twelve partridges in pear trees.

Twenty-two turtle doves.

Thirty French hens.

Thirty-six calling birds.

Forty gold rings.

Forty-two geese a-laying.

Forty-two swans a-swimming.

Forty maids a-milking.

Thirty-six ladies dancing.

Thirty lords a-leaping.

Twenty-two pipers piping.

Twelve drummers drumming.

Now, doesn't it seem to you that if he really was her true love, he would have left it at some jewelry, a nice dinner out, and a dozen roses? Where is she supposed to put all this?