I don't like the word 'countdown.' It causes my heart to pound with anxiety, as if I'm going to be very late for something. I've never cared to hear the 10-9-8- etc of the space crafts at lift off, and I feel the same way about the New Year's Eve ball drop. They just bother me...I don't know why, but they do.
When digital clocks took the place of the ones with hands and numbers on a circle, children began to announce the time precisely as each second passed. It made me want to run from the room, tear at my hair and scream. Now, Hallmark has created a countdown ornament, which documents days, hours, minutes and seconds. Excited children who have this gadget on their tree will be running to parents minute by minute exclaiming how little time is left before Santa arrives. Oh joy! (Who, in their right mind, would even consider hanging a thing like that where kids could see it?!) I'm fine with the Advent calendar to open with children, one little box for each day. Yes, it's a countdown, but somehow it's much gentler.
I'm right on schedule for Christmas... on MY schedule, even if I don't measure up to the ideas of those doing the countdown. I've got my lists, my gifts, my organization according to MY plan.
I won't be late for the holiday festivities, I promise. Please stop, Mr. TV Reporter, reminding me of how many days I have left to do thus and so. You may call me a Countdown Curmudgeon if you like, but I will just click you off, so that I don't have to hear it!
Now, since the time is growing shorter, I need to hustle my bustle.....
