I simply adore Christmas! The bite in the air, lights, shopping, presents, cookies, family, friends, music, movies, ugly sweaters, all of it. I’m a total Christmas junkie – always have been, always will be. Every year someone tries to deter my Christmas spirit, but their Scroogeness never phases me. Sure it annoys me, I always think, “why can’t you just be jolly?” I suppose they need to harbor their bitterness towards the holiday, the music, forced family time, eggnog, gifts – I don’t know why, but they rarely turn the corner and see the joy of Christmas. That’s a shame, I love Christmas. Their bitter souls are missing out.
But I never believed in Santa Claus, and for good reason.
My family never had a traditional fireplace, we had a pellet stove. Even in my toddler state of mind I figured out that no one in their right mind would squeeze their fat body through a chimney pipe not even ten inches wide, shimmy their way down in a fire pit of hell that was sealed shut from the outside by a giant metal door – just to bring me presents. Nope, couldn’t fathom such a concept.
I loved the movie the Santa Claus starring Tim Allen. They managed to think up a clever way for Santa to deliver presents to those with “improper” fireplaces and those without fireplaces at all. Magic can do wonders for that “aw shit, now what?” moment, but I still didn’t believe in Santa. It was too late. From birth I’ve been logical, practical, and rational.
Santa or not, I can’t get enough of Christmas.
’tis the season!