Christmas in July

Okay! Okay! Confession time! I finally did it. I jumped on the bandwagon I hate most. I have disgraced myself beyond belief. I. Have. Failed. Big time!

I bought our Christmas cards yesterday. In October. Before November. Shit. Before f*cking Halloween! I abhor those who jump on the Hallmark bandwagon, the CVS gravy train, the Walgreen's woody- where all holidays (and even non-holidays- What the f*ck is National Care Giver's Day, anyway?) must be pimped out months before their time.

I know how they play their game.....put out the bright sparkly lights and fake velvet bows with green (Hey- they could at least use RED f*cking twist ties on the red bows, no? I'm no art student, but give a non-crafty mom a break here, huh?) plastic twist ties affixed to the back. Place the pretty garland around the store in early October. This way? When I, the belated shopper, peruse the aisles frantically on Halloween Eve for something!!!! Anything, that could be used for a costume for a belligerent child!

But, nooooooo. Instead? Let this frantic, full time working, slightly neurotic, full time laundromatic, (did I mention non-craft-matic?!) mother of the perfectionist child find herself aimlessly wandering your stores, amidst the twinkly flashing icicle lites, babbling somewhat incoherently about Scream costumes of holidays past ( and perhaps -most likely - drooling a little on the left).

THAT, my faithful readers? Was the year I dressed my child, the boy I labored 26 hours for and promised God and all who were holy that I would from that day of birth forward to treat as if he were a true prince of this Earth- That was the year I sent him out trick or treating as a reindeer, with some awful set of light up furry antlers, and wiry garland wrapped around his legs and arms-his torso (God have mercy on my soul!) wrapped in a green felt Christmas tree skirt-

And that sweet child of mine---the one I swore would live better than Britney Spear's dog?- he turned his little cherub face to me and he said, "Momma? Momma? What am I supposed to be?"

And I turned to this child who I once swore would be treated as well as a prophet, and I said to him.."Why, sweetie? YOU are a reindeer."

And this prophet child turned to me again, and with a quivering voice said.."Momma? But I am green! Reindeer are not green."

And so I once again looked into the eyes of this precious gift of God, this one being whom I, and I alone (OK, so here, I boast!--it couldv'e been immaculate conception...It could have happened) created...And I looked him square in the eye, and I said, "Son? You know Rudolph was the most famous reindeer of all, don't you? "

And his little angelic cherub face nodded up and down.

"Well," I told him as I leaned in closer.."You just tell the other little trick or treaters that you are Prancer the Reindeer. And the reason why you are green, and not nutmeg brown like the other reindeer? You are jealous of that show off, Rudolph and his f*cking shiny nose."

And that, constant reader? Is why I had my Halloween costumes and decorations done in July. AND my Christmas cards bought before Halloween.
'Cause that kid? Can't lie worth a crap. He told everyone he was dressed like CVS in October because his mom was too late to the game.
Sigh.