I'm a lover of early Christmas decorations.
I know, I know. I'm one of those people.
Whenever people talk about the Christmas Creep (that delightful moment when Halloween ends and suddenly, everything in stores is replaced with Christmas stuff and it's happening earlier and earlier and faster and faster every year, hence, "the Creep"), they look to me with an expectation of solidarity. "I hate how once Halloween is over, bam! It's Christmas!" Then the piercing look. I gulp.
"I actually love early Christmas. The longer it lasts, the better," I reply, making a mental note to not invite them to my house until after Thanksgiving.
Why, you ask?
I already have my Christmas tree up. In fact, I've had it up since the day after Halloween.
What can I say? I just get so excited. I just want everything to be peppermint, to be red-and-white striped. I want to wear fair isle sweaters and beanies and snow boots. I want red cups at Starbucks and Christmas music on the radio. I love it. I always have.
Thursday night, I left work to meet my sister-in-law, Amy. We walked and talked and ate frozen yogurt. After I drove her home, it was starting to get dark (5pm, still early) and I realized that I love that feeling. Those first nights of early evening, when the world seems to turn the lights out at exactly 5:30. The headlights and the neon signs of shopping centers and the stars shining like Christmas lights. I love those early days: it feels magical and crisp and happy. I remember driving home from school or events with my mom, sitting in the front seat and watching the lights shine past me. It reminds me of a lot of things, but mostly, it reminds me of my family and home and being blissfully happy.
So when it comes to hate towards the Christmas Creep, I have to be perfectly honest: you won't find kinship with me.