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Listen, I think January gets plenty of attention. What other month kicks off with a global party and always gets the front seat in the calendar?
But the middle little guy in our house felt sorry for January and worried it would end and no one would notice.
“Can we have a party to say goodbye to January?” he asked yesterday morning as we hustled to the car before his beloved month’s air could freeze our eyeballs shut.
“You want to have a party for January? The month that ate 37 of our gloves and mittens and boxed out the sun for most of its days?” I asked somewhat incredulously.
“It’s the last day,” he said. “We should at least gets some balloons.”
He knows I’m a sucker for balloons.
“I’ll think about it.”
Of course, I agreed. What else were we going to do on a frozen Tuesday night?
So, we got some confetti balloons because they look like snow inside and we made votive candles out of empty yogurt jars and snowmen out of marshmallows and, later, out of ice cream too. I refrained from pointing out that our honored guest had been too cold to let us make snowmen out of snow like we could in December. No one likes a bitter party guest.
I briefly toyed with an indoor sled ride down the stairs, but the last time I okayed such shenanigans the little neighbor child ended up with stitches in his chin. So, we stuck to snowmen.
Then we arranged the votives we’d made into a reasonable heart shape on our front porch “ so God can see that we really do love January.”
“Don’t you think God wants us to love February too?”
“Yes but not before we say goodbye to January.”
So, here ya go, January. Safe travels and we’ll see you next year.
Now bring on February and every other month that gets us closer to June!