Ah, Christmas! It is the one time of the year where I breathe a little easier, I walk a little faster and I smile a wee bit more. It is a sacred day. Sure...the religious aspect is nice, but Christmas is the last bastion of my innocence. It is the one stop shop of my childhood. Whenever I turn into a snarling asshole, all I have to do is think of a Christmas of my youth and I'm Mr. Sweetypie. I love Christmas.
The pure wonder and miracle of waking up Christmas morning to a tree that was fully loaded with presents was one of the best feelings I have ever experienced. It wasn't just the fact that I was getting stuff (which is always good) but more the mystery and shock of it all. Would there be big presents? Small ones? Were some hidden behind the tree? Were the milk and cookies I had set out for Santa gone?
It was amazing.
I was seven when I put two and two together and figured out that the whole thing was a sham. I was sitting in a rocking chair when I asked my mother if she and my father were Santa Claus. She told me that they were. I asked about their involvement with the goings on of the Easter bunny and the tooth fairy and she just nodded. After being told that I could still believe in all of them if I wanted to, I just sat and cried. Even at that age, I knew that my world had just shrunk significantly. I would give anything to experience that pre-Santa truth feeling again.
So, with that explained, my love for Christmas might be seen as some kind of deep rooted, childhood issue...but if it is, so be it. I love Christmas.
For the next month and a half, I'm going to show off my love for Christmas....both past and present. It's going to range from Christmas specials on television to my own tree to toys to food to the damn wrapping paper used this year for presents.
It's going to be a blast.
Stick around...we'll be right back...