Song on the supermarket loudspeaker: “I wish every day was Christmas.”


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No, you don’t.

Can you imagine if every single day, week after week, year after year, was Christmas?! Shopping to give people presents every day? Decorating your home and preparing Christmas dinner every day? Arranging time off of work and traveling to visit friends and family? Virtually every business and office closed? Plus all of your favorite TV shows postponed, and nothing but Christmas songs on the radio… forever?!

And what about poor Santa? Having to make that trip every single night of the year?

More importantly, you’d soon get sick of it being Christmas. Holiday fatigue would set in; too much of a good thing. It would become just another dopey, predictable, routine drudge. “Oh, man, Christmas again already. I’m barely recovered from yesterday’s Christmas…”

“After a while turkeys got to be awfully scarce, selling for about a thousand dollars apiece. They got to passing off almost anything for turkeys–even half-grown hummingbirds. And cranberries–well, they asked a diamond apiece for cranberries. All the woods and orchards were cut down for Christmas trees. After a while they had to make Christmas trees out of rags. But there were plenty of rags, because people got so poor, buying presents for one another, that they couldn’t get any new clothes, and they just wore their old ones to tatters.” – From “Christmas Every Day” by William Dean Howells

No, it’s probably a very good thing that every day is NOT Christmas.

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