Christmas is Hummin'

It was late November.

"No Christmas music 'til after Thanksgiving," he decreed.

But she went to buy brocolli, coffee and paper towels.
And there it was.

Joy to the World.

Out the store PA and into her ears.
And into her heart and into her head.
And she hummed it under her breath through the day.
"I hear you humming. That's a Christmas song, isn't it?  Stop that!" he demanded.
But she went to buy a dress.

Nothing fancy, nothing special, nothing for Christmas.

And there it was.

Silent Night. Holy Night and FaLaLaLaLa....playing out loud among the chrome racks of simple clothes.

And then playing in her head.

And she hummed it quietly as she did the dishes.

"I hear you," he said.

But she went to the bank.  Ah sweet respite! No Christmas music to dodge.

On the way home, she saw it...the tree lot. 
THE Tree Lot.
She stopped for just a sniff of the fresh, wet evergreen.

And there it was.

Oh Tannenbaum blasting from tin loudspeakers.

She hurried away, humming.

She slid the turkey into the oven.

And hummed in Excelsis Gloria.
He raised an eyebrow and went to greet the guests.
She washed the last dish and hummed Silver and Gold.

It was time.

"Do You Hear What I Hear?" she asked.
"We need a Little Christmas," he replied.
"Does this mean I can hum?" she inquired under the mistletoe.
"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," he granted.
Then I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.