I was over visiting my neighbours last night. Guy neighbour had surgery a bit ago, Lady neighbour had called wanting to visit, and Baby neighbour is too cute to pass up. As we were chatting about things, The Grinch came on TV. Now I don't mean the new Grinch, but I mean the old school Grinch. Half an hour cartoon of evil.
Lady neighbour told me a delightful story of how she and her brother watch The Grinch together every year. Even if they have to do it by phone. She loves the cartoon and it just isn't Christmas until she see it. However, I beg to differ because she officially announced it Christmas on Dec 8th when she heard Bob & Doug McKenzie's version of "12 days of Christmas" on the radio.
Anyway. My point of the story.
I hate the Grinch. Not necessarily the story, which is cute and who can resist Cindy-Lou Who?, but the Grinch himself. I hate him. He is mean and nasty and horrible. I want to go there and remove his dog from his care and kick him in the bum. And he goes about ruining every one's Christmas morning and then, because the Who-ville whooters didn't as much as shed a tear, he repented. And then he is celebrated by the Who-ville clan as he gives them back their things. He gives them back their own stuff and they are thrilled.
Even then, I still hate him. In my version of The Grinch, he is imprisoned and fed bread and crackers while his dear sweet doggie is given to Cindy-Lou Who to keep forever.
I am full of Christmas cheer.