So. it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. And I’m finally ok with that. Because now it’s actually December.*
*And all Americans, no matter what religion or creed they are, know that Christmas – and it’s more politically correct counterpart, ChristmaHannaKwanzikah – lasts for the entire month of December until the dawn of New Year’s Eve.
I understand that Thanksgiving came late this year. That’s hard on the wild world of commerce, I know. There’s less time for massive holiday profits. Which is really what American holidays are all about.**
**I’m not criticizing. I totally love getting stuff. I am a true American.
But that’s no excuse for having decorated for Christmas before Halloween.
Halloween is sacred to the youth of American. And Thanksgiving is a sacred, essential part of easing us all into overly crowded, stressful family gatherings in the name of love.*** So it’s pretty uncouth to skip right over those holidays and jam holly and mistletoe down our throats before the line of December is crossed.
***Don’t worry my family. I’m definitely not talking about us. We are, of course, special, and all love each other in a drama-free way. Definitely. Our family gatherings are the ideal model for Thomas Kincade paintings.
But now it is finally December. The time for the crisp scent of Christmas-tree pine, and stressful holiday shopping in overcrowded stores. It’s a time for merry, multi-colored lights and egg nog**** In short, we have finally hit the holiday season, and I’m a hundred percent behind it.
****Or soy nog, for those of us with a stubborn hippy streak. Or lactose intolerance. Bonus!., if you’re a drinker of soy nog, NO ONE ever steals your glass.
But lets get down to the true meaning of Christmas: The tree.
Christmas is not Christmas without a murdered tree shedding impossible-to-vacuum needles all over your carpet. Christmas is not Christmas without trekking out into the snow to sort through hundreds of trees to pick exactly the right one. Christmas is not Christmas without men swearing under their breath as they tie the tree to their cars, scratching the roof, while women try to entertain sticky children who are fighting in the parking lot.
We all know this to be true.
But I still helped decorate my parents’ totally fake tree yesterday.
The above image is pre-decorations, but I’m totally proud of my garland stringing skills.
I want to be mad about the plastic and the pre-packaged lights. But I have to be honest: This tree went up in less than 20 minutes, I didn’t have to untangle a single light, and absolutely zero spider babies tried to eat me. Also, no vacuuming was involved.
Convenience is taking the suffering out of Christmas, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.