Oh December, you are my favorite.
I used to think it was your sister, October, with her swirly whirly leaves.
But no, December, you are my favorite.
I love your gloomy.
I love your cold.
I love the way my coffee mug feels in my hands.
I love your glimmer of hope.
I love your sparkly twinkly lights (yea!)
I adore this need for fire and fuzzy socks.
I love the fluffy warm blankets and how I no longer sweat in agony underneath them.
I love the briskness of the walk to and from my vehicle to my destination.
I love the sweetness.
I (tearfully) love the years gone by.
I love the hustle.
I love the moments I can't do anything except sigh at your wonderful self.
Oh December, you--you, you, you are my favorite.