Holy Fucking Christ

Yet again, another Christmas season is brutally forced upon me... despite my screaming and clawing at the calendar. 


I. Hate. Christmas. Season.


I don't mind the holiday, I love spending time with my family and watching my kid light up at everything that's handed to him, (and that's BEFORE he unwraps it) and the general spirit of things... but goddammit I hate Christmas music. Like, with a fiery, burning passion that consumes my soul for three solid months. 


Seriously. I was in Bed Bath and Beyond today and of course, my little boy-who is still to young to fully grasp my hatred- DEMANDED that we stop and play with EVERY singing toy in the Christmas aisle. Now, Mickey Mouse singing "Here comes Santa Clause" and the snowman singing the Frosty song were bad enough, but tolerable because he's little and it excites him, but holy shit balls I made the vital mistake of picking up a very tall and long-legged snowman. (The legs should've been my first clue that something was amiss... the hell kinda snowman has legs?!) 


I hesitated pressing the button, my inner alarms ringing on full alert, but this little smiling face of my unusually happy toddler pulled my fingers to the snowman's foot without my brain having any say in the matter. 


Do you know what assaulted my ears with the push of such a tiny felt button? Such an innocent, jolly looking, candy-red button??


Apple.Bottom.Jeans. APPLEBOTTOMJEAN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?


Here I am, in BB&B, totally flabbergasted by this abomination I'm holding in my hand singing RAP music and (what the fuck?!!?) DANCING!!


So thaaaaaaaaaaaat's what the long legs were for. So this snowman (rather jolly looking) could get "low low low low low low low" much like drunk sorority sisters in bars, wondering why they'll never get married. Really? A happy little snowman tricked my son and me into listening to this filth that is overtaking the world around us. Seriously??? Who wants that shit in their house?? My brain has been scarred. Eventually I fumbled the spawn of Satan back to it's rightful place on the shelf, and ran the cart, with my still dancing 2 year old (bless his heart, he doesn't know any better) on to a different aisle. 


The memory makes me shudder. 


I hate this season. Bah Humbug.