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I’ll take the night before Thanksgiving over Christmas Eve any year.
Christmas Eve is a tired ol’ day, worn out by the flurry of activity preceding it. By the time it arrives, usually too soon, it’s all out of breath as it plops its burden of stress and strain — last minute shopping, checklists, nagging questions (Did I get her the right gift? Will it fit him? Should I have just given the kids money and been done with it?) — at your doorstep.
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