...nine reindeer and about seven billion mouths to feed.
Beyond that, I should empty the dishwasher in the next hour or so.
I wish I could upload the picture. Last night, after my mom took an awesome picture of Olivia and I in our Santa hats, I wore mine to the store to help people get into the holiday spirit.
Of the ten or fifteen people I saw in the store last night, only one person commented on it, and only at my prompting. I verified that my forwarding address was 1224 Candy Cane Lane, at which point she cracked a smile, which was really nice.
I have half a mind to run back to the store and give her a Santa Clause hat to wear as she shuffles through her day singing Christmas songs in her head.
Two times of year are most meaningful for me, late October and late December. I like late October because the winds of Hell blow every color imaginable from the trees every year around this time, usually enough for my neighbor to fill 35 leaf bags and line them up along the front of her property.
"It's good exercise," she tells me.
I like late December because with every passing day, more and more people get into the holiday spirit. I like to think that at least one more sour-faced Scrooge is moved by a Christmas song per year.
Some put forth an extra special effort to be particularly nasty during this time of year, but more often than not, they melt like butter the moment someone calls their bluff--one particularly bitter resident at the assisted living home I used to work for comes to mind. He giggled like a child the day after the holiday party and announced proudly that someone had spiked the eggnog. By lunch time, he had his claws out again.
"Grilled cheese!" He would yell, and the CNA lucky enough to be taking his order would be warm and kind as though he had never yelled at them before.
There's something about Christmas and Hanukkah that seem to bring people together, all worldly preoccupations disregarded, save warmth and love, and for a few, cold snowy nights per year, everyone rejoices.
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