To my Christmas-marking readers, all the best. I hope we're all nice to each other in 2009, and naughty in a good way. Merry merry to all, even to you non-feminist, pro-forced pregnancy types.
To those piling the applesauce or sour cream on the latkes, try Gorgonzola and carmelized pears instead. I'll see you at the movies after the Chinese food on Christmas Eve. That's a tradition in our family, just like yours.
Finally, to the non-believers, the pagans, the heathens and the non-Judaeo-Christian types, we're still all in this together. That's why I love Canada.
And remember! At least we all benefit from Boxing Day sales.
P.S. Note that I am setting this post on a late date so it stays at the top.
(Yeah, that's me, with the Eaton's Santa, a long time ago. The look on my face is, ''Okay you, did you happen to find out about the time I smashed my brother's hand in the bathroom door? I know I did it on purpose, but he keeps falling for it every time. Anyway, except for that, I've been pretty good, honest, and I still hope to get that Betsy Wetsy doll I saw on TV, the one that drinks and pees just like a real baby. What? You don't know my name? You had to ask? Phew. That means you really aren't clued in, are you Santa?")