Every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.

For as long as I’ve known my husband, he has a Scrooge mentality when it comes to Christmas . . . not the penny pinching but the whole bah humbugginess.

In fact, the other day while I was getting things ready for Christmas . . .  playing Christmas music, baking Christmas cookies, wrapping Christmas presents and putting up the Christmas tree he personified Sir Ebenezer superlatively.  I’m not sure what his problem is.  I do most of the holiday preparations all he has to do is buy me awesome presents.  So I asked him to put the lights on the tree . . . that IS the man’s job . . . and he promptly announced that Christmas was cancelled.  

HA . . . who does he think he is?  Like he has the authority to cancel Christmas . . . as if!!  He’s not Santa!

Despite all his pre-holiday grumpiness, he really is quite a sweetie . . . just like the other humbug . . . as opposed to the contemptuous exclamation made by ol’ Scroogey himself.

I grew up having humbugs at Christmas time . . . although I never knew that’s what they were called.  I just thought they were Christmas candies.  Humbugs are striped candies, usually peppermint that have a hard outside and a soft toffee middle.   

My mom used to put them out in little dishes.  By the time the holidays were over, if there were any of those candies left (and there usually were), they ended up being all stuck together in a sugary cluster.  

Bah humbugs!