There's Children Throwing Snowballs Instead of Throwing Heads

The lights are strung up. The tree is bought, assembled, and adorned. The hats, jackets, thick sweaters, and scarves have been pulled from the closet. The speakers are pulsating with the familiar sounds of holiday tunes in their classic and variation forms. The big red bows, shiny ribbons, and rolls of gift wrap have been purchased. The greeting cards are sifted through and handpicked to the choice selection in preparation for the inevitable and possibly humiliating holiday picture. The scent of gingerbread fills the air, not to mention the grande sized Starbucks coffee cup. The pumpkin pies are baking in the oven, and cooling down on the counter in hopes of scraping off those burnt crust bits before serving. The price tags have been slashed to considerable amounts in the hundreds, a bargain considering the original added to nearly a thousand. The high temperatures have dropped down to a finger numbing average of 65 degrees.

The holidays must be here. And I love it.