Why must Dublin tease me so? With each night, the city makes new preparations for Christmas time. Under the light of day (which only lasts until about 4:30 now), I see the light fixtures stretched from one side of the street to the other like a gate into Narnia. One after the other, they line the walking path of Grafton Street, St. George’s, Camden Street, everywhere…
Why must Dublin tease me so? Maybe the extension cord isn’t long enough to reach the outlets. Night falls, and the light fixtures are still lightless. Haven’t they heard that Marks and Spencer’s is already selling Christmas candy? That Starbucks’s cups have already turned red and are now full of Gingerbread lattes and Peppermint mochas? That I’ve already watched Elf twice?! Dublin, why do you torture me so? I’m having flashbacks of my youth when I could walk downstairs in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve to see presents—presents wrapped and hidden from view. So close, yet so far. The weather tells me it’s Christmas time and so does the fire-hazard candle burning in my room that smells like Christmas trees and pure delight.
Why must Dublin tease me so? Why not wait at least until after mid-November to set up your lights and to sell your delicious Christmas treats? Could you at least keep the weather a little warmer until it’s closer to the appointed time? You could at least wait until that Harry Potter spin-off movie comes out on November 18. Now I’m feeling the pressure to buy Christmas gifts, to write cards, to roast chestnuts on an open fire!
Ok, fine, I admit that I love it. I love the teasing. I love everything about Christmas, and I love everything about Dublin’s Christmas aside from the fact that they refuse to turn on those dang lights.
