Call me a chickenhawk, but I’m not fighting the War on Christmas(tm) much this year.  But I’m happy to provide a front-line report from one of the soldiers on the front lines:

I don’t know about you, but I had a hard day warring on Christmas today. First, I visited a lady with cancer who is currently undergoing chemo, and made arrangements to take her to the nursing home tomorrow to see her husband who is suffering from Alzheimer’s. We laughed together over her new hairstyle, I commiserated with her over her nausea and weakness, and we talked hopefully about better times in the future.  She thanked me for the visit and for the little Santa teddy bear I had got her from the Dollar Store. Then I punched her in the gut because she didn’t wish me a “Merry Christmas.”

Next, I went to Sam’s Club and bought a large bag of Meow Mix for Shirley’s cats.  Shirley, who lives across the street from my parents, is on welfare and has been having some serious health problems for a while.  Her cats, which live outside and prowl the neighborhood, have been looking kinda thin and raggedy lately.  So, to make me feel better, I spent $9 to buy them some food.

After ringing up my purchase and taking my money, the cashier smiled and thanked me for shopping there — but she didn’t wish me a “Merry Christmas,” so I slapped her.

After exiting the store, I gave a few bucks to the college students who were there collecting for the community food bank. They didn’t wish me a “Merry Christmas” either, so I decked them.

Then I went to Shirley’s house, put out food for the cats, and visited with Shirley for a few minutes. She was clearly touched that somebody cared about her and her cats, and thanked my several times for the cat food – but she didn’t wish me a “Merry Christmas, so I broke her thumbs.

On the way home, I stopped to see drop off some cookies I had bought for my neighbor Linda at the new Mexican bakery in town (of course, nobody THERE said “Merry Christmas” to me, so I was forced to torch their business). Linda has lost control of much of her body due to the ravages of MS, and finds it hard to speak. She did manage to tell me a little about her black cat, to tell me about what she was watching on TV (”Little House on the Prairie”), and to thank me for the cookies, but … well, you can guess the rest.