…my house smells like a Frasier Fir.
Not until I hear Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” on the radio. Once, maybe twice. After about the 217th time I’m pretty much ready to tear my hair out & pray for spring. :smack:
There are also canned versions with a shelf-life that is more like a half-life - years more than months. I have stashed the Borden’s version for Christmas in July and while it isn’t the greatest egg nog, it wasn’t terrible either.
Whenever I hear that song, I think of Alyssa Milano in “Who’s the Boss” singing it at the kitchen table. Cracks me up every time. (Well, except the 217th time of course.)
A friend and I have a running bet. It’s not Christmastime until there’s a local news story about a family who just lost everything in a fire. The presents are all bought, and wrapped, and under the tree. And they lose everything, including the family pet.
And the real punchline is at the end of the story: “They didn’t have any insurance.” This year I picked the 19th and he picked the 15th. It will happen. It always does. Then, it will truly feel like Christmas.
Yeah, we’re sick.
I start dreading the whole “season” around Thanksgiving, when you start seeing the culture just go nuts with frenzy. If we could start around the 20th and end around the 26th, I might actually enjoy the holiday. As it is, I despise it.
Ok, I’m going to add one because this just happened to me at lunch.
It’s not Christmas until you decided to make everyone homemade cocoa at Christmas, go to the store and buy 2 cases of mason jars, and are driving back to work when you hear something that sounds like a rock hitting your windshield. Being that you work in kind of a rough neighborhood, you flinch when it happens a second time and think maybe someone’s popping some caps at your a**. And then you realize . . .
It’s the lids of all the mason jars popping in the sun.
My grandparents have these candles they put out that are about fifty years old.
N O E L
So, its not really christmas until my grandfather changes them around to any of these:
E L N O
Grandmother: Dammit, John, change those back right now!
Grandfather: 'EL NO! (hell no)
L E O N
Grandmother: Dammit, John, stop messing around with the decorations!
Grandfather: It wasn’t me, it was probably Leon. Yeah, Leon did it.
etc et al
rofl - i love it!!!
I don’t know him, but I love your grandfather. 
It feels kind of Christmassy today - my tree is up, though I won’t turn the lights on until it gets dark out (something like 4pm-ish nowadays), and it’s snowing outside with a good accumulation.
You can really see his humor in this picture, he is on the left, my grandmother is in the center, and his sister is on the right. Taken last Easter.
I think I should drive down and see them this weekend, its only three hours away.
Can he be my grandpa too? Just want to hug him.
[Run D.M.C.]
It was December 24th on Hollis Ave in the dark
When I seen a man chilling with his dog in the park
I approached very slowly with my heart full of fear
Looked at his dog, oh my God, an ill reindeer
[/Run D.M.C.]
Me too. I want your childhood.
Not until after Mass the fourth Sunday of Advent. Advent isn’t really over but I put up the tree then.
You mean you don’t understand why “Midnight Mass” is at 9:45? 
Apparently the Pope will be saying Midnight Mass at 10 PM this year.
Sidebar: “What time is Midnight Mass?” is not a dumb question. Midnight Mass refers to the set of readings and prayers said for that Mass. There’s also a Vigil Mass, Mass at Dawn, and Mass during the Day. My pet peeve is everyone wants to hear the nativity story so churches will often override the Gospel from the Mass During the Day, the most glorious of readings John 1:1-18 /Christmas pet peeve
…until I say so!
I like the NOEL lights–makes me wish I had some.
ROFLMAO! Yeah – I’m sure. Although we did have a Presiding Bishop once who thought he was the Pope.
:smack: