For some people, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. When late November comes and the radio stations all start playing carols all the time, they must think “Oh! Christmas music! One of my favorite things!” And they’ll belt them out like it’s the first noel and they’ve never heard these songs before. Or they’ll put on their Christmas shoes to come a-wassailing, thinking their singing is just a joy to the world.
Last Christmas, it came upon a midnight clear. We were getting ready for bed, when we heard something like silver bells ringing. My husband turned to me and asked “Do you hear what I hear?” Unfortunately, I did. But we took a stand. We refused to open the door to give the carolers cookies and hot chocolate. They must have wondered “Do they know it’s Christmas?” They must think I’m some sort of Mr. Grinch. I’m not. It’s just that my husband and I, we’re a couple of misfits. I like the idea of carolers, I just wish they’d go away in a manger or go tell it on the mountain or someplace else!
I wouldn’t mind so much if it didn’t last so long–from October through December. If we could just have say two weeks or twelve days of Christmas music it wouldn’t be so bad. But we don’t. When Christmas comes to town, it comes early.