There is so much I love about autumn.
I love the smell of wood-burning fireplaces, the fact that I don’t have to wear blush because the constant wind chill leaves my cheeks flushed for hours, chunky sweaters and that every dinner includes roasted vegetables.
But what I love most about fall is my favorite holiday: Thanksgiving.
Halloween is beast, but Thanksgiving encompasses everything that a holiday should be: time with family, football and above all, delicious food. Some will say that Christmas has all of that too, but with the added bonus of gift giving and receiving.
I totally agree. But I’m starting to get really irritated with Christmas.
Last week, not 24 hours after trick-or-treaters shed their costumes and fell asleep with bellies full of sugar, Starbucks introduced its annual winter holiday disposable cup.
You know what I’m talking about: the red cup that holds your morning caramel macchiato, adorned with snowmen, carolers and woodland creatures wearing knitted scarves.
Last Tuesday, I swear I saw that red cup everywhere. And it made me angry, because I kept thinking, “Whatever happened to Thanksgiving?”
Don’t get me wrong; the Starbucks winter holiday cups have been known to give my heart a flutter — I do love a good gingerbread latte — but I only allow it to happen after I’ve had a tryptophan-induced coma.
In fact, I have a very strict holiday regimen, which includes, but is not limited to, the following: candy corn cannot be consumed until Oct. 1; no listening to Christmas music until the morning of Black Friday and holiday decoration displays in Target must be shielded from the eyes until first week of December.
I love holiday cheer as much as the next person, but I am a firm believer in letting each holiday have its moment in the spotlight. Yet my parents haven’t even bought the turkey and already the holiday cheer is being shoved, literally, down my throat!
Take the grocery store, for example.
Two weeks ago, I freaked out on my parents for buying the worst combo bag of Halloween candy ever.
When they asked why, I told them that Almond Joys, Rolos and Heath bars were a great way to make sure that the kids in our neighborhood don’t ring our doorbell next year. So off to the grocery store I went, on a mission for some Starburst, Snickers and the old standby, M&M’s.
And what did I find instead? Candy canes.
That’s right; pumpkins hadn’t even been carved and yet here were Christmas sweets on display, directly in front of the automatic doors.
I was tempted to demand an explanation from a nearby teenaged cashier, but I resisted the urge. I probably wouldn’t be allowed back in Safeway if I had.
The ultimate question lying in this long-winded rant of mine is what’s the deal? What is so wrong with wanting to celebrate one holiday at a time?
I understand that Thanksgiving will always be overshadowed by the three major winter holidays. I get it. No amount of my whining will change anything. I just find it ironic that the food industry continues to step on Thanksgiving’s toes, when in fact Thanksgiving is one of the few holidays that revolve around food.
Oh well. I suppose I’ll just have to avoid Starbucks until finals roll around. Goodness knows the only company I’ll have time for then will be the woodland creatures on my coffee cup.
