I'd really like to know what happened to Time.
When I was a kid, the month between Thanksgiving took forever. I went back to school after Turkey Day and knew I was in for the long haul before the Big Day itself.
I went to the store and got gifts for the family. Mom was an professor and a hippy, so that meant a trip to The Importer, a huge barn that was filled with unique stuff from all over the world, including a parrot from Africa. Whenever you walked by, he would say, "Oh, look, Frank, it's the parrot."
I wore a stocking cap, just like that kid in The Christmas Story, and I wrapped my gifts with about five rolls of tape. Dad read A Christmas Carol out loud to us and I read The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, ad old fashioned story by Julie Lane. I still get all teary at the last chapter.
Snow would come, lots of snow. We shoveled and built snowmen. But better than that, the Sears Wishbook arrived, and my sister and I spent hours pouring over the pages. Tumblestones! Twiggy Barbies! Chitty Chitty Bang Bang! Doctors' Kits! It was the very, very best of times.
I don't know what happened. How did that magical time eclipse on itself and become a mere fragment? I swear I was just serving turkey a split second ago. And now, horrors, Christmas is next week!!!!