Christmas has started too early this year, and you will not convince me otherwise
Over the weekend we went to our local mall, where we were meeting some family members for coffee, and this is what was waiting for us:
This was taken on November 6th, and I’m sorry, but no. I just can’t. It’s too soon. It’s like a FULL MONTH too soon, and the thought of another 7 weeks of Christmas music and ELVES everywhere – ELVES, people! – is just too much.
Of course, it’s true that I have form for feeling this way. I am Not a Christmas Person. I’ve long said that while I enjoy the day itself, I find the run-up to it stressful and, well, expensive, really, and it’s going to be even harder this year, with the cost of living crisis making our heating bill more than our mortgage, and our mortgage more than the GDP of some countries.
Even if I did enjoy the “festive season” though, I’m not sure I’d be up for almost two full months of it, which is what we appear to be facing now (Unless, of course, the two malls we visited this weekend are just freakish anomalies, and the rest of the world is content to let November be November, without insisting on making it be December, which is blatantly unfair to it.). After seeing all the lights and decorations at the weekend, Max has already worked himself into a frenzy of excitement. He asked five times if he could go and see Santa Claus inside that giant tree, and I’m not sure he totally believed me when I told him the elves were just “practicing” until SC arrives in December.
Now, before you accuse me of being a complete and utter killjoy by telling him that, let me assure you that Max isn’t going to be denied all of the usual joys of Christmas. We’ve already booked one Santa experience and an enchanted forest visit for December (Both of which had to be booked back in the freaking summer, such is the level of demand for these things), and we also have various parties and other festive occasions in the diary. Every weekend in December will be spent doing something appropriately Christmas-y, and I will not complain, because it will be December, and I have had to grudgingly come to terms with the fact that that’s when every single person on Instagram will start posting photos with the caption, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas”, and there’s not a single thing I can do about it.
But I will not accept it in November. Well, I mean, I WILL, obviously, because it’s not like there’s a single thing I can do about THAT, either. But I will feel justified in complaining about it. Because I don’t want to see Christmas trees and elves every time I leave the house for seven full weeks. I would happily never hear Mariah Carey ever again, let alone the day after Bonfire Night. I can’t afford to take my child to Santa’s grotto over and over again, and I’m just a little bit resentful to find that’s the battle I’m going to fighting from now until, well, Christmas. Actual Christmas, I mean. Not this weird, ‘Let’s Pretend It’s Christmas in November’ nonsense we’re being subjected to.
It’s too early. And you will not convince me otherwise.
Now, who’s with me?