Charlie Brown Christmas trees abound in our house.
Presents are starting to appear.
I put all the Halloween decorations on one shelf. Maybe I like it like that, maybe it’s easier to gather it all and put it away on November 1.
We watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown on the weekend. My husband gets up as it starts and begins washing the breakfast dishes. I tell him not to worry about them, come watch with us. Afterwards, he fesses up that he’s not a big fan of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
It’s like finding out he lied about his age or never really liked my chili or hadn’t broken off with that girl yet when I met him like he told me he had.
“You don’t?” I ask.
“I don’t like it as much as A Charlie Brown’s Christmas,” he tells me.
“You rank them?”
This from the man who can never tell his kids who his favourite Avenger is or Star Wars movie or member of the Fantastic Four.