Really? You again? Already? You know that you stress me out and that you’re not my favorite month. (At least you aren’t January, so take it as some consolation that I don’t downright despise you.) But here you are again, all needy and excited, hurrying up to get here and all. Seriously, you couldn’t have taken your time this year? You could have done what I did this morning: get up late, swing by McD’s for a coffee and a biscuit, take the long route into town, and show up for work half an hour late. Using my laziness this morning as an example, for illustrative purposes only, of course, couldn’t you have followed suit and been a week or two late? No… Right on time you are, all eager to be here and everything. You’re like an ignored dog, pleading at me with those eyes, wagging your tail and all: Look at me, love me, pet me.
But no, December. I will not love you. And it’s impossible to pet a month, so stop being weird.
Are you surprised to hear me complain about you? I know that you rank right up there as a favorite for lots of people. (Lots of crazy, dumb people who need to have their heads examined.) I know that those cheerful crazies will call me a Grinch because you stress me out, December. But hello… when my six-year-old’s top two items on her Christmas list are an iPod (she learned from her sister to ask for a 16G 4th Gen Nano - hot pink please) and a Nintendo DSI, both of which cost around $200, I get a bit stabby. No, she’s not getting either of those things, December. She’s SIX. Besides, the money tree I planted can’t stand the numbing cold that you bring to us each year, so it withers up and dies just when we need it the most.
So anyway, you stress me out and turn me into a big ball of nerves. And it’s not as though you’re a month where I can go for a nice long hike or a bike ride to relax after a long day of work or baking or shopping for expensive, breakable crap for my children. No… you’re cold and usually gray and dreary. And for the love of God, why do you and your friend The Wind have to hang out so much? Stop having parties together, send The Wind away and tell her to come back in August when we really need her.
Since you decided that you had to be here so quickly and all, I have one small request to ask of you. Can you at least relax and enjoy your stay? And pleeeeeeaase not rush out of here like you did last year? Because I have a shit-ton of things to do during your stay. There’s the visit I have scheduled to see my brother and his family, and then there’s Christmas shopping – I haven’t even started that yet, December. You know me, I’m a wait until the very last second when you can order gifts online and still have them delivered in time kind of gal. Oh, and I have working, baking, cleaning, parenting, and so forth all to do while you’re here too. And then there’s the Christmas celebrations, December. Two sets of divorced parents equals four Christmases to schedule. Which is fun and all, it’s just that, well, you're only 31 days long, you know. It’s hard to fit it all in!
So are we on the same page here? Will you at least stick around and take your time this year? Promise not to fly by in the blink of my puffy, sleep deprived eye?
You’ll try? Honest? I sure hope so.
Monnik, that cranky woman who always curses your name when she slips on the ice of your first winter storm.
P.S. Just so I’m not all gloom here, I will say that I do like at least two things about you, December. I love sparkly Christmas lights. They're pretty and fun to look at. And, I especially like the way you smell, all crisp and fresh-like. So there. I’m not a complete hater.
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