It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Christmas by Paul Batch

I started listening to Christmas music last week. Davis Cantrell said I was crazy and should not be tempting people to listen to Christmas music at the horrifyingly early date of September, and I said Davis was wrong. Several people thought I was joking. I am not joking. I have been listening to Christmas music nonstop. I put eggnog in my coffee this morning. (I admit that the eggnog in the coffee did not go as planned, and I ended up not drinking it because the little egg particles floating around in my coffee were really grossing me out.) The point being, I am very excited for Christmas, and since this is my blog and I can talk about what I want, I'm talking about Christmas. (This is not the first time I have talked about Christmas. I really like Christmas.)

Here's the thing. I'm fully aware that it's not December. I'm still planning Halloween costumes, and I'm looking forward to when my family comes to visit for Thanksgiving. But Christmas just has such a hold on me. We had a single week of 60-degree weather, and now I can't get out of the Christmas mindset. 

That being said, here are some thoughts about Christmas/reasons why you too should be pretending it's winter. 

1. Now obviously I love Christmas because of Jesus. I love Jesus, and I want to celebrate him all year long. If I'm already thinking about him every day, I might as well think about his birthday too. 
2. Also, Christmas food is so good. Trust, I love candy corn and I also love Thanksgiving dinner, but do you know how much I want to eat candy canes right now? Where am I supposed to find candy canes in September? I want to eat candy canes and drink eggnog and devour massive quantities of Christmas cookies and peppermint bark. (I will say that Christmas foods hit especially hard during Christmas because I dance nonstop super intensely for all of Nutcracker, but as soon as shows are over and Christmas break starts, I get to eat cookies without the guilt of knowing I have to dance later.) Hot chocolate sounds STELLAR right now, even though I already have a cup of coffee on my desk.
3. I can't talk about Christmas and not talk about Christmas music. This is what started my whole early Christmas fiasco. I love Christmas music. I love the Jesus-y Christmas music, and I love the not-Jesus-y Christmas music. Mariah Carey has thawed, guys. I know you think you have more time, but you don't. She's here. She's ready. I'm obsessively listening. 

In my listening to Christmas music, by the way, I have noticed a very interesting phenomenon. The large majority of non-Christmas songs are actually love songs. What are you talking about, you ask. You're crazy, you say. I fear I am not crazy, or at least no more crazy than you. "Winter Wonderland," "Baby, It's Cold Outside" (personal favorite), "Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow," "Blue Christmas," and obviously "Last Christmas" are all love songs. And since noticing this phenomenon, I've come to the conclusion that winter is the most romantic season. I say this as someone whose favorite season is not winter. 

Think about it:

1. Obviously, there's the ridiculous number of love songs. I have to admit that they are all super sweet, and I would not mind building a snowman and pretending he is Parson Brown. 
2. Christmas is in winter. It is cold in winter. Thus, the season of Christmas provides limitless opportunities to be very, very close to a person of interest, and possibly to share jackets. 
3. Mistletoe exists. I would like to remind everyone that winter is the only season in existence in which there are plants that give you an excuse to kiss someone every time you walk through a doorway. (I would like to clarify that I have never been kissed, though we did have some mistletoe growing in our yard last year.)
4. Everyone is on break from work and school, and thus, there is more time to hang out with loved ones. 

I don't know where I'm going with this. I just like Christmas and wanted to talk about Christmas. The point is, I'm about ready to put up my tree, and I'm sad that it's still warm out.