I cheated on my favorite holiday. It was an accident, I swear.

Thanksgiving gets the short end of the national attention stick. Sandwiched like a middle child between Halloween and Christmas, poor old Turkey Day never gets a chance to shine. In my mind, Thanksgiving is flat out the best holiday we celebrate. I love the coming together, the harvest, the thankful hearts, the family around the table, the warm and cozy colors, turkey, the very traditional meal, and the Kirkwood-Webster Turkey Day Game. I love it all. As a purist, I want absolutely anything to do with Christmas until the leftover Thanksgiving feast is tucked away in the fridge and the dishwasher is emptied.

My new job requires frequent road trips about town. Earlier this week on my way to a school visit, I flipped to a favorite radio station now playing Christmas music 24/7. The young, strong, disciplined Nana would have flipped right past that music to another more seasonally appropriate station, but the older, mildly mellow Nana froze. Finger pointed and hovering just above the select button, I found myself listening to Amy Grant belt out one of her classic Christmas tunes. I couldn’t resist! I sat back to listen, and I even started singing along. It was so very wrong. I’m nothing but a weak souled cotton headed ninny muggins. Oops.

Someone asked me the date and I replied, “It’s Thursday, August the 53rd.” After receiving a quizzical look, I explained that this is the month that will seemingly never end. It feels as though it’s been August forever, doesn’t it? Fall decorations will adorn our home this weekend. Summer, I’m so over you.