Merry Christmas

I woke up with strong indications of having been finally overcome by the traditional Christmas cold, so it was with even less enthusiasm than usual that I set out to the grocery store, whch for me, even on a good day seems to be a the sort of quest worthy of a nice 200 stanza epic poem. Trader Joe's was bustling, of course, and I did allow myself to indulge in a little self-pity as I filled my cart with juice and soup and Airborne, while everyone else's cart was brimming with wine and chocolate and poinsettias.

I headed home feeling exhausted and snuffly, but somewhat optimistic about my ability to face the immediate future now that I had Kleenex, tangerines, and spicy apple cider. Then, about a block from home, right there in the crosswalk was a sight that banished the dreariness from my heart and filled it with Christmas joy. Because what really signals Christmas so much as a little blonde girl skipping across the road all dressed in her red...Spider Man suit? Complete with spidery face paint.

Ho ho ho, little girl.

Merry Christmas.