With Thanksgiving this year, there came a revelation.
We had opted to do it early — as in, the weekend before. It worked out better for us. It worked out better for the sons.
And so, when other folks were still putting their menus together and polishing their silverware and fetching the good dishes, we were chowing down on turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. The husband proposed a toast and we clinked our glasses, and before you knew it, the non-holiday holiday was over.
The following weekend, when everyone else was mashing potatoes and setting the table and making a last-minute run to the liquor store, we were lounging around watching football.
“I like this,” I said.
“Me too,” said the husband. “Feels kind of nice to get the heavy lifting out of the way.”
I agreed, resisting the inclination to remind him that the lifting — heavy or otherwise — had mostly been my job.
“We should do it every year,” he continued. “You know, have the turkey early.”
Then the light bulb went on.
“Maybe,” I said, “we could also do that at Christmas. I mean, celebrate it early.”
The husband snapped his fingers.
“Brilliant,” he said. “You mean, like, do the dinner on Christmas Eve?”
“No,” I said.
“The week before?” he wondered.
“Heck,” I said. ‘If we really wanted to get the heavy lifting out of the way early, we could do it in November.”
“Love it,” said the husband.
In an ideal non-holiday holiday world, we would wait until post Halloween, given that pumpkins and pumpkin pies are entirely different things. We would also wait until the Boy Scouts opened their Christmas tree lot, given that we’d want something on which to hang the angels, stars and candy canes.
“So maybe early December?” wondered the husband.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said. ‘”Early, but not too much.”
And so, if everything goes according to non-holiday holiday plan, when folks are still roaming the malls and ordering online and wrapping presents and making cookies, we will be reclining in front of the fire, the lifting pretty much over.
“So what are we thinking?” asked the husband, glancing at the calendar on his phone. “Either Dec. 1 or 15? Either way, we can watch football the next day. You know, on ‘Boxing Day.’”
“Either works,” I said.
And so, here we are, with the countdown underway.
Christmas is coming early this year. I’d better let Santa Claus know.