I hate Christmas. I hate buying presents for people just because it is the last week in December. If I want to buy a nice gift for someone, I'll decide WHEN that is, thank you.
I hate Christmas trees...but so do all other men I've every discussed this with. It's a waste of time, money and if you have a dog...well, good luck. I hate figgy pudding, whatever that is.
I hate hanging garland, I hate getting the ornaments out of the attic. I hate sending cards to people. I hate having to explain why I still haven't grown up since last year in my yearly report. I hate photos of us smiling when two minutes earlier I was trying to convince Grace to PLEASE put on her (horribly ugly, she says) brown shoes and trying to get John to stay still long enough to put on pants.
I don't want to go over hills and through the woods on a sleigh. I don't want to sing for the neighbors wondering if I'll ever get full use of my left foot again. I don't want to exchange gifts with almost strangers. I don't want to explain to Grace and John why a fat guy in a red suit ISN'T in the nativity scene.
I do like egg nog, though.
I'm not a scrooge. I'm a man.
However, if by "Christmas" you mean the celebration of the birth of the Messiah, then count me in...
