It must be Christmas

Almost anytime you drive, the traffic looks like rush hour, the shopping mall parking lots are packed and the stores are crowded. It must be Christmas.

The nighttime neighborhood looks like Las Vegas, the living room smells like Sequoia National Park and it's rainy and cold outside. It must be Christmas.

The mailbox is full of cards, the UPS people know your name and Santa Claus is everywhere. It must be Christmas.

The dog is trying to hack something up on the new carpet and the cat just knocked down the tree. It must be Christmas.

There are parties and family functions. Stress and busy schedules fill every day. Holiday music is everywhere. It must be Christmas.

Uncle Scott and Cousin Greg are arguing politics and religion, and their voices are getting louder. Scott is a devout born-again and Greg is a secular humanist. (That's good. Last year he was just an atheist.) They agree on absolutely nothing but enthusiastically debate as if either side can convert the other. It must be Christmas.

Aunt Lori is extolling the virtues of antidepressants and how they've saved her. Hardly anyone notices that she's on her seventh glass of wine. It must be Christmas.

Several women sip coffee, tea and eggnog in the dining room. The topic is parenting. The consensus is that those who are good at it should write a book for the rest of us because nobody gets an owner's manual in the hospital delivery room. It must be Christmas.

The gift exchange was earlier. Some people got things they may actually use. Other items will be returned to the store before the week is out. Thank God for gift receipts. It must be Christmas.

To all of you who celebrate or observe it, have a very merry Christmas. Almost all of us love it, but are happy, too, that it only comes once a year. Please drive defensively, keep a smile on your face and share lots of hugs.