For our Jewish readers, Happy Hannukah/Channukah/Festival of Lights/the other spelling of H(Ch)annakuh. Menorah, dreidle and latkas for the J’s.
A classic of all denominations:
To the song…
“On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eight maids a milking.”
Wow. Ooooooookk. Remember when I mentioned this theme of subliminal messaging in this song. I’m pretty sure this one crosses the line. “Milking” is not a word that can be thrown around lightly. Especially with “maids” thrown in front of it. Sounds like some sort of maternity group. In reality, this is probably a couple of cute farmhands getting up at the crack of dawn to go milk your cattle. Which in modern terms, is someone doing your work for you, which is always a win. So yeah, a good gift all around.
For my Romans.
“On the eighth day of Christmas, my paesan gave to me, eight ‘HOW YA DOIN?'”
NOTHING is more Italian than a good ol’ fashioned, neighborly ‘How ya doin’. As a gift though, it’s not common enough to be a gift, it’s more of a necessity.