Young Writers Society

Christmas is the most wonderful time of year. Nothing gives me more cheer than to walk into a Dollar Tree and see a singing snowman plush next to a plastic zombie minotaur mask in mid October. I'm so thankful Christmas begins the day after Halloween. Discount Halloween candy is the perfect way to put chocolate stained smiles on greedy children, whilst saving money for mortgage payments. What I love most about watching kids open presents, is the false credit they give to a hirsute plop dressed in red pajamas. Christmas shopping is a grand venture filled with stressful deadlines, impending credit card bills, and catchy music. 

The grocery store Christmas music especially energizes me. Instead of delicately reaching for the last pre marinated, half-priced frozen turkey, I lunge with a sort of enthusiasm I wouldn't have, if not for those three repeating Christmas songs. And let's not forget the mall Santas. Those charming old perverts are just the sort of characters I seat my children's bums upon. No amount of screaming and crying will stop me from photographing a memory I will purge with enhanced egg nog. Ah, the memories...

Dogs urinating on snowmen, the kids poisoning themselves with cookie dough and requiring overnight vacations to the stomach pump ward of the hospital, post Christmas constipation,  vacuuming the remnants of Christmas tree from the shag carpet...

Christmas truly is the time of year for laughter, tears, and social anxiety. It is the time when Will Ferrel is on every channel sporting a leotard...or at least he would if the snow storm hadn't knocked out the cable. It is the time for festive donuts and politically incorrect coffee cups. It is the time for falling off the roof while hanging Christmas ornaments and purchasing enough decorative paper to coat your walls several times over. Most importantly, though, it is the time for estranged family to exchange gift cards and gas coupons while maintaining a merry facade. 

As I sit in my rocking chair, staring out my frosted window at the mountain of snow that once was my car, I can't help but feel a sense of alcohol induced warmth. I love Christmas so much; Its steady approach gives me the urge to bound off a cliff...or perhaps a very tall building.