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. 

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