It’s that time of the year again, when little kids and retailers get excited. And it would appear it’s the time of the year Santa has his prostate check, if this photo is any indication.

But I digress. It’s December, which means I can look at tinsel and all other festive-themed paraphernalia without getting  the urge to Taser someone. I really do like Christmas … but I like it in December, where it belongs.

Way back in the mists of time, when I was a snotty-nosed brat, the whole Christmas excitement didn’t start to build up until December. Which made sense: the school holidays would kick off and you’d have just enough time to get yourself worked up into a lather about whatever it was you were hoping the whiskery old bugger in the red suit was going to shove down the chimney for you before Christmas Eve arrived. Then you’d lie in bed wondering if you were EVER going to get to sleep, or even HOW you were ever going to get to sleep with all this excitement. You’d hear a noise, panic that it was Santa and his reindeer and you’d miss out if he realised you were still awake, stress some more about the whole getting to sleep bizzo, then … well, miraculously, it would be morning and there’d be a whole bunch of goodies for you to rip into. And if you were really lucky, they were the goodies you asked for. Damn, they were stressful times.

(As an aside; I never did get the Tonka truck I wanted. Instead, I was the lucky recipient of several dolls over the years. Bloody gender stereotypes, sometimes life isn’t fair.)

These days, it’s even worse for kids because the whole buildup starts so much earlier. When my son was little, it moved to November, with shops breaking out the festive decorations a good six weeks before the big day. Now, it seems October is the new November. It scares me when I see Christmas tinselly things and hear Christmas carols in October. It also makes me more than a little pissed off: I mean really, why can’t Christmas happen in December? It’s a wonder all the kids out there aren’t all Christmas-ed out by the time December 25 arrives. Who knows, maybe the next big things for child psychologists might be post-traumatic Christmas stress syndrome (because attention deficit disorder is so passe). The poor little buggers must be as twitchy as hell by the time Christmas Eve arrives.

So please retailers and weird Christmas addicted freaks who decorate anything in their vicinity that stays still long enough, can Christmas stop moving backwards (oooh, I feel a Goons song coming on). Then I’ll be happy.

Well, apart from when I see those bizarre fake snowman decorations. We’re in the southern hemisphere so it’s the middle of summer for us at Christmas time. That’s a whole other Taser opportunity.