Merry Christmas, you filthy animal

It is exactly 31 days past Christmas. And the other day at work I caught a glimpse of a remnant of the holidays so blindingly out of place that it gave me pause - I saw a sweater lady. Oh, yes, you know of which I speak. I don't mean just a regular sweater with a snowflake on it, oh no. We're talking the bright red knit variety sweater complete with tassels, bells, puffs, and lights that actually flash, depicting a scene of holiday cheer. These sweaters are often accompanied by matching seasonal earrings, a handbag, socks, or even a furry hat with antlers. Yes, antlers; it happens - I've seen it. In my experience there are two kinds of sweater ladies:

1.The loud, bawdy, obnoxious women with no idea that they look like an overdecorated snowbeast

2.The ones who know exactly what they're doing and either revel in it, or the Christmas spirit has just compelled them to look to adorn themselves in as much festive garb as they can get their hands on. (my mother is of this persuasion)

Let me just say that I have absolutely nothing against this style of dress. In fact, I love these women; they make me smile in my deepest heart of hearts and give me the feeling of warm hot chocolate running down my throat. Anyone who has met me knows that I'm full to the brim with Christmas cheer. But. If my cheer ever extends anywhere near the realm of becoming one of these women (particularly at a time so far past the holidays), strangle me with a piece of tinsle and stuff some mistletoe down my throat.