I Have a Christmas Dinosaur.


I have a Christmas Dinosaur. I have a Christmas Dinosaur.

When I found out a Christmas Dinosaur existed at Home Depot, finding him became the first Christmas Mission of the season. Because that’s what Christmas is—a series of missions, feats you must pull off, and other tiny miracles you must perform. Remember, the first Christmas was also a feat, a miracle. A leap of faith. They say God is in the details. Maybe it’s in finding that one perfect gift. Maybe it’s in surviving that ungodly trip to the mall—or surviving the parking lot. Untangling the Christmas lights is a miracle in itself. Or that moment you finally adjust the tree perfectly in the stand. A beat. You take a breath. It doesn’t lean. Believe.

Finding the Christmas Dinosaur wasn’t easy. The first Home Depot was sold out. I briefly entertained thoughts of getting the 30-inch, 150-Light acrylic Santa Pig. But as awesome as a Santa Pig is, it’s no Christmas Dinosaur. Then I made a pair of misguided stops at Lowe’s and Kmart—no Christmas Dinosaurs to be found. Nor were there any at the next two Home Depots I tried. Even the floor models were sold. Up until this point, I had still been unsure about the Christmas Dinosaur. I didn’t know if I really wanted it. I just wanted to look at it. Decide. Think it over. Sleep on it. But now that I knew it was a hot item, I NEEDED IT. NO MORE QUESTIONS. A TWENTY-MILE DRIVE TO ANOTHER HOME DEPOT IN ANOTHER TOWN? NO PROBLEM.

Finally, I found one, and I was so elated, I didn’t bother with the mental gymnastics it should take to justify dropping SIXTY DOLLARS on a wire frame covered in tinsel. Whatever. Here’s my Mastercard. Seriously, this thing was more than a Christmas dinosaur. It was a Christmas trophy.

When I got it home to the wife, she was equally as excited. It’s the freaking Christmas Dinosaur. Christmas Mission Accomplished. Then I had to mention what I spent. “It was sixty dollars,” I said grimly, although not in a regretful tone, but rather a resigned one. An inescapable fact of life. It’s cold and raining. Our football team lost. I was dreaming I’d won the lottery and then I woke up. The wife intuitively understood. She nodded and sighed.

The first red flag should have been the words “some assembly required.” Three simple words say so much. Somehow I had expected the contents of the box to be more than a wire frame covered in a threadbare cloth, but that’s exactly what it was—in seven pieces that required being held together by plastic zip ties. Let me type that again. Plastic zip ties. For sixty dollars, you don’t get something that easily snaps together. No, you get something that you have to MacGyver together with zip ties.

Oh, and it’s a two-person job, but the instructions don’t tell you that, nor do they tell you how to align the pieces or where to even begin. So just begin by just throwing the instructions out. Also, be prepared to fight with your significant other, because this is the kind of thing that causes those kinds of fights. You know, the ones where you are both kneeling on the ground in the front yard accusing the other of being the one who is holding up the piece wrong.


Those kinds of fights. But this is what is marriage about, working together to build shoddily-constructed yard decorations. And it’s what Christmas is about. The Christmas Dinosaur gives and then he gives some more.

And he also gives presents to baby Jesus:


In years past, I’ve been hesitant about loading up our front yard with tacky 1980s plastic figurines and animatronic light-up dinosaurs because IT’S A VERY REASONABLE THING TO BE HESITANT ABOUT. But also because it’s a bit vague about how much of the small patch of grass in front of our duplex is actually mine. But I’m pretty sure it’s all mine because I raked both sides. And actually, even though it looks like Joseph and Santa are awfully close to encroaching on the neighbors’ side of the lawn, they’re well within the invisible line of decency I mentally drew between our properties.

In other words, I have no shame. But I don’t care. I have a Christmas Dinosaur. I have a Christmas Dinosaur.

24 thoughts on “I Have a Christmas Dinosaur.

  1. Nice! This should help fan the flames of all those religious debates that will inevitably happen between random passers-by, especially the zealot Christian types–you know, those people who believe dinosaur bones were placed on Earth to test their faith, and that cavemen used to ride around on T-Rexes.

    1. I know. I think an exact replica of this scene is in the Creation Museum.

  2. My neighbour has three of these on his lawn! THREE! I’m so jealous! But his hang out with Mickey and Pooh Bear… seeing Christmas Dinosaur embody the holiday spirit by bringing gifts to baby Jesus just brings a tear to my eye!

    1. That’s nearly $200 worth of Christmas dinosaurs. Something to aspire to!

  3. Congrats on a successful quest. Santa, a jolly gift-bearing T-Rex, and sweet baby Jesus. Somehow that scene fully captures the essence of Christmas. The end result looks great!

  4. This picture reminds me of a FRIENDS episode involving Santa, a Holiday Armadillo, and a Christmas story about the Maccabees. And somehow you’ve managed to capture the entire scenario in plastic (and zip ties) on your front lawn. Brilliant, really. And hilarious as always.

  5. My first Xmas mission this season is to find the special Monty Python and the Holy Ale gift box. Not only does it come with two bottles of the Official Monty Python holiday themed ales, but it also comes with the Holy Grail chalice! Sure, maybe not very Christmas like, but it’s not my fault this is the month it came out.

    1. FUCKSHIT. I need that now.

  6. So you rake both sides. What does the balance of shoveling look like?

    1. Shoveling snow? We haven’t had a good snow since moving in yet. Hmmm.

      1. That Christmas Dinosaur is great. I actually stopped reading a couple of times to scroll back up and look at it again. I love it. Also, I’m confused. Did you move again?

        1. No, it just hasn’t really snowed much in 2 years. We had the snowpacalypse 3 years ago, so I think everything compares to that now.

  7. It’s the Christmas miracle!

  8. That nativity scene is one of a kind. Santa saw the gifts the wise men were giving and it gave him an idea for a new career. The dinosaur tried to be good, but he ended up eating one of the shepherds, so God struck him down. That’s why dinosaurs are extinct.
    Awesome post, bro.

  9. Three Wise Men and a Dinosaur………coming to a theatre Christmas 2013.

  10. And it is crazy fracking cool!! Good work.

  11. I want one! there’s no way he’d ever be put away. i’d have to find a way to justify him being an installation in the house year round.

  12. That is one beautiful and touching vignette. Please do take a shot at nighttime/snow-covered and post it, if that happens. ‘Merica remains a melting pot of joy at this time of year.

    (Ummm hey. Is your baby Jesus *mounted* there on his little Christmas tree X type stand? Fitting…and foreshadowing. It somehow adds to my appreciation of Easter too – extraordinary work, Pizza!)

    1. well, I put the baby jesus on the two pieces of wood to prop him up off the ground so he could be seen better from the street, but I like your interpretation so I’m going to say it’s that from now on.

  13. hands down, the best yard display on the planet!

  14. This is the best decorated-for-Christmas yard I’ve ever seen. I’m so jealous of your dinosaur. D8

  15. Love, love, love it! Congrats on your Christmas Dinosaur! I wish I had one.

  16. I just got one of these for my birthday yesterday. Love, love, love it. I especially like your manger tableau. I was trying to figure out how I could get more dinosaurs (if they were available) and create a manger scene entirely out of dinos.

  17. omg this post is hilarious, and the pic at the end giving jesus a present hahahaha

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