I love the holidays. I’m the kind of person who goes all out when it comes to decorating and having a holiday spirit. I think my family resents me a bit once December 1st hits, because I turn into Cindy Lou-Who, throwing lights and glitter and decorations everywhere and sometimes I think I even start singing that creepy song the Whos all sing. (I’m not entirely sure what fahoo forays even means; that doesn’t stop me from singing it, anyway.)
But I turn slightly Grinch-like when I’m walking down the street, enjoying the autumn colors and weather just starting to turn chilly, when I’m suddenly assaulted by a giant inflatable snow globe with Santa and dancing reindeer. Some of my neighbors don’t even wait for Halloween to end before they start decorating for Christmas, so I turn into Dr. Seuss; only my message is slightly different than his.
I quite enjoy the holidays; this is a fact that’s true. But Christmas lights so early? What’s a poor girl to do?
We should just be enjoying each season in its course, but Thanksgiving gets trampled by the prompt Christmas force.
I stand on the sidewalk without any snow, puzzling at lights. How can it be so?
Maybe Christmas, I think, doesn’t come in December. With decorations up early, it’s hard to remember!
“They’re hanging their lights up?” I snarl with a sneer. “It’s only November! Winter’s not even here!”
But they have their ribbons and bright Christmas tags, while pulling lights out of their boxes and bags.
“But wait!” I call out. “We still have some time!” But nobody listens, so I write this rhyme.
‘Cause they pull out their wreaths and their bows and their holly, and hang them up in September, all Christmas-y jolly.
What happens then? In Rochester, they say, Katie’s warm heart shrinks three sizes that day.
Decorations are good, knick-knacks a wonder; but let’s not steal poor Thanksgiving’s thunder.
I’d like to turn Grinch-like and snatch lights away, returning them on the appropriate day.
A bare street with no lights till December! What then? But swords are not mightier than my little pen.
For we all saw what happened to our dear Grinchy friend when he stole the Whos stuff; he gave it back in the end.
So I sigh and put up with Christmas so soon, and hope someday, someone listens to my tune.
My friends, welcome holidays in its assigned term, ‘cause lights before Thanksgiving just make me squirm.
Seriously, guys; let’s take one holiday at a time.