I am in the minority on this one.
The definite minority judging from my unscientific sample size of houses in our neighborhood already decorated for Christmas.
THEY ALL ARE....well, except for the dark, sullen, naked (as in UNdecorated naked) loser of a house pouting at the end of the street. The house wishing for orange lights, hale bales and spiders. The house yearning for gaudy, scary, stupid, silly adornment.
I curse thee....ye tasteful Christmas decorating.
White lights all a flickering, Santa Clauses waving merrily, red, green, blah, blah, BLEH....puke.
I don't like Christmas.
Yes, I said it.
Too much damn work.
I used to love it. Back when all I had to do was show up. Eat some fudge (my dad used to get Fanny Mae fudge every year to fuel our tree decorating), toss some decorations on the tree, laugh with my family, get spoiled with presents. WHO doesn't love that kind of holiday?!? Side note -- E is pretty pumped for the big day. Duh.
Now I am a lazy-Grinch-Scrooge. And completely understand why my mom looked so tired in all of our Christmas pictures from when I was little. (4 kids. She and my dad would go to Toys R Us Christmas Eve and get everything. Were you guys nuts??)
The girls' upcoming school Christmas program, my fun cookie exchange party this weekend with girlfriends, and shopping for my family (very unGrinch like of me to enjoy "doing for others" isn't it?) all should chip away at my currently green exterior.
Oh, and Christmas cards. Love 'em. Love sending 'em, getting 'em. Opening 'em and putting them on the fridge.
My icy heart is melting already.