Aaaaah, December. How I love thee. And not because I skate like Dorothy Hamill (does that reference date me?) or navigate a slope like…ah, who’s that kid?…oh yeah, Shaun White. If I put on a pair of blades I’d be down in a nanosecond. And snowboarding? I figure if the Good Lord wanted me to race down a mountain at any sort of speed, he’d have made my feet wider and flatter. No, I love you because I’m lazy.
I’m ready to hibernate, and I’m waiting for the first snowy day to turn my world into that “marshmallow” snow globe that Sir Deano sings about on my favorite holiday album. Yes, I want to wake up to see soft flakes falling on a Saturday morning. I don’t have to haul my, ah, backside anywhere early on a Saturday, so I can flop around in my slippers just that much longer.
I want to bring out any candle that goes by the name of “Holiday Cookie,” “Evergreen,” or “Apple Wreath,” touch it lightly with a small flame, and let its scent fill up the hallways of my home.
If I venture outside, it will be in my big fuzzy boots and my warm winter jacket. My car will point in the direction of the nearest Dunkaccino, which I will pick up, pop in my cup-holder, and drive directly home lest it get cold. “Holly Jolly Christmas” and “Do You Hear What I Hear?” will play in the background throughout the afternoon while I wrap all my presents with real ribbon.
I will string sparkly silver ornaments along my mantle and roll pine cones (thank you, Kristin) in white glitter to bring all the wonder inside. Some warm, hearty stew will be simmering in the crockpot because on this perfect day, I have thought of everything.
That first snowy night, I will curl up on the sofa with a hot cup of coffee (oh, don’t doubt it: I’ve built up such a caffeine tolerance that I can pretty much have a cup just before 8 and still be out by 9:30) and “The Shop Around the Corner,” my favorite classic Christmas flick, on the tele.
Where’s The Boy through all of this, you ask? Well, of course, he’s out with The Husband picking out the absolute perfect, most meaningful Christmas gift for Mom. Well, let’s just leave it at “they’re out.”