Rushing It

  Five days ago I went to Costco and as I got near the back of the store I saw racks and racks of costumes. Kid's Halloween costumes. It's the middle of August. All could think of was that if I'd bought my girls their Halloween costumes in August we would've had endless drama as they continually changed their minds about what they wanted to be over the next two-plus months. I know this isn't an entirely new phenomenon. When my oldest was six she had a growth spurt. In June. I dashed out to the store and found a couple of clearance racks of summer clothes, none of it useful. Everything else was Back-To-School clothes. Grandma, one of the world's greatest shoppers, saved the day since she had already stock-piled clothes for next summer. This was in the 1980s. In the 1950s, my favorite humorist, Jean Kerr, talked of being out on a crisp November day, walking into a store and being overwhelmed by Christmas displays. She commented that we used to have a time to be thankful before it was time to be joyful. So it's not new, but it has continued to the point where it's ridiculous. The Halloween candy will be out by the start of school, with the decorations following soon after. Thanksgiving isn't a big money-making holiday, so you'll have to hunt if you want to find some decorations, but the Christmas push will start by October 1, if the stores can restrain themselves that long. And this year, with so many businesses desperate to stay in business, I expect it will be worse. I'm having enough trouble trying to keep track of time as it is, with every day feeling like Blursday. It's frustrating if you, like me, want to take your holidays one at a time and not be overwhelmed by having to plan all aspects of a holiday months before it occurs. This rush to celebrate, by which I mean purchase, is more than frustrating. It's exhausting.