Sigh.
You know how, toward the end of “A Christmas Story,” Ralphie laments how the Bumpus Hounds robbed the Parkers not only of Christmas dinner but also so much more after they burst into the kitchen and devoured or more aptly, obliterated the family turkey?
“The heavenly aroma still hung in the house. But it was gone, all gone! No turkey! No turkey sandwiches! No turkey salad! No turkey gravy! Turkey hash! Turkey a la king! Or gallons of turkey soup! Gone, ALL GONE!”
That’s how I feel about crummy old Jan. 3: It just plain stinks because it gobbled up my Christmas joy faster than those slobbery mutts mangled up that big ol’ bird.