#without explaining it

peter venkman hates christmas. he is not so much of a scrooge that he refuses to participate, as he knows how much the festive season means to others and would not dream of stomping on their parade. but he sure as hell moans about it, and for good reason.

with his mother having passed away when he was just six years old, peter’s immediate family was shortened to just himself and his father. except, his father - a budding con artist - was hardly around. this was something that peter would learn to live with and accept, though christmas time was a special case.

each year would bring a new promise that jim venkman would be home in time for festivities; over the phone, his father would boast of the gifts he had waiting for peter and build the young boy’s hopes up so high. but inevitably, business would intrude and peter would spend yet another christmas with his neighbours -- a small family, just like his own had his mother been alive and his father been interested.

jim venkman would of course return at some point, a car trunk brimming with the latest toys, books and the like that would lead to his son’s forgiveness. but as peter grew older, he realised that christmas was about more than just flashy gifts: it was, not to sound too cliche, about family. tired of being let down year after year, peter resigned himself to a careless attitude.

I meant older him that’s what I saw first