Reindeer poop, used couches, and Tinkerbell

If you’ve been in Michels in the past couple weeks you would have had 1 of 3 reactions.

1)    Indifference

2)    Denial

3)    I think I just threw up a little bit.

I was more along the lines of number 3.  All we wanted was a plain tin box thing that wasn’t Christmas.  The encounter went something like this

Excuse me, miss... do you have any plain tins, or really just anything that isn’t Christmas?  I feel this isn’t a terribly huge request seeing as Thanksgiving hasn’t passed, yet the entire store is decked with holly and the reindeer poop.  And dost mine ears deceive me?  Is that Macy Gray singing Christmas carols?  Um…what the darn-it?!? …it’s November 22^nd.

(At least it did in my head.  In reality my wife was MUCH more pleasant)

I love Christmas.  I really do.  I love cold weather, Christmas blend, pine trees, Advent, and big choirs celebrating Jesus.  But, can we first be Thankful?  It saddens me that Macy Gray’s Winter Wonderland exchanges Abe’s Day.  (Fun fact: it was Abe that made the final Thursday in November a national day of Thanksgiving, but Congress made it a holiday in 1941)

Before this turns into a rant about when a person can listen to Christmas music, I want to change direction a bit.  This isn’t about when a person can or can’t listen to Macy Gray (answer: never) or when they can deck their halls.  A wise person once told me, “You’re not the boss of me!”  They were right.  I’m not the boss of you.

Tonight I am not listening to Christmas music, not surrounded by pine or lights and reindeer poop.  Tonight I am sitting on my used couches sneaking peeks at my beautiful wife who is currently sleeping peacefully in one of her infamous ‘20-minute-naps’, and I couldn’t be happier.  I’m thankful for my used couches.  I’m thankful that I have a home, a furnace, my incredible wife, and that cute little Tinkerbell blanket she’s cuddled under.

I’m not here to tell people when they can celebrate Christmas.  You do your thing.  My only concern is that in our haste to deck our halls, and brew a nice pot of Christmas blend, we’ve missed a wonderful opportunity to be thankful.  Not just for the big things, but also to live a life that is daily thankful: not getting a flat tire on the way to work, the post-it your wife left you on the coffee pot, you came home safely after braving Trader’s a few days before Thanksgiving, that you have used couches to curl up on, that once upon a time your parents gave you a sweet blanket so you can take naps at 11pm, for cell phones and the ability to talk to loved ones in times of hurt and joy.

I’m thankful for Thanksgiving.  I’m thankful for the food and drink, the funny hats and feathers, and the inevitable handprint-turkey-art.  I’m thankful for talk during meals, the laughter of shared joys, and the unity in shared pains.  I’m thankful for football and the turkey-coma-nap on the floor.  I’m thankful for spending time with family and the chaos of kids running around.  I’m thankful for sharing a slice of pumpkin pie with my girl.

And, I’m thankful for my blue chair.