Thanksgiving marks the official start of the Christmas season, which means it's now time for me to incessantly sing Christmas carols and otherwise irritate my loved ones.

Have you ever noticed that people seem to smile more just after Thanksgiving? In between the sale fights and the mad scramble for the last piece of pecan pie, there's a lot of grinning going on. Some folks are smiling because of the presents they know are coming, while others are anticipating the presents they'll be giving.

Either way, they're happy.

I do a lot of grinning myself, but not for any particular reason. I like everything about this season, from the good food to the vibrant colors to the good presents I always hint about for months and weeks before Christmas Day.

Hey Patrick, did I mention I need a good shoulder bag and wallet?

I get downright giddy the weekend after Thanksgiving. You can tell when Thanksgiving has passed because that's when I pull out the official Christmas records, cassettes and cds and start comparison shopping for the cheapest fake Christmas tree that doesn't look cheap or fake.

Of course, the cheap ones have about the same life expectancies as real Christmas trees which means I end up doing the same tree search each season.

I think the grinning concept is a woman-thing. In my family, at least, the women seem to take their preparations for the holiday seriously, grinning in anticipation of the final result. On the faces of the men is more of a grimace-type expression that intimates they hate all of the extra work and don't understand what all of the fuss is about.

And then there's my sister, Clarissa, who returns home for college over the holidays and only wants to eat, sleep and channel surf with as little extra activity as possible.

I especially love Christmas because of the decorations and the music, which I guess is a trait I inherited from my mother. Patrick thinks I'm bad around the holidays, but that's only because he has never had to experience Christmas Preparation Weekend.

That, by the way, is the weekend following Thanksgiving; house trimming time in the Zellars household. It's the weekend when Mom always made modern-day slaves out of me, Clarissa and Dad. We'd spend the entire weekend hanging wreaths, trimming the indoor tree, putting up lights outside of the house, and putting whatever was left on the half of the evergreen outside that faced the road.

And don't mention the music. This is where Mom and I really show our enthusiasm for the season. I think Mom has every Gladys Knight and the Pips Do Christmas album ever recorded. Gladys CAN blow, but she can get a little irritating when she's singing at the top of her lungs AND at the amplifier's peak.

Now I'm not criticizing my mother, because like I said, I'm the same way. It doesn't matter who is singing the carol, I'm still going to love it. No matter if it's Pavarotti, Elvis or B.B. King -- if they're singing about Christmas I want to hear it.

We irritate our husbands (not to mention my sister) to no end with this enthusiasm. To be such music enthusiasts, these people have absolutely no love for Christmas carols. In fact, Dad always seems to blow his amplifier or a speaker out about two weeks before Christmas, when Mom is really starting to warm the speakers up. And Patrick doesn't think I know that he hides my Boys II Men Christmas Interpretations cd every year.

No matter though, because Mom and I are resourceful. She's learning to play the piano now, so Dad has his choice of hearing Gladys or Portia doing Christmas. As for Patrick, one day he'll realize that the person who cleans the house finds the cds. When he does, I'll just start buying extra copies.

So Thanksgiving has passed, Mom and I are grinning and everyone else is grimacing. I'm planning on giving decent presents, but most of my joy is coming from just being around the ones I love.

I can't think of a better reason to smile than that.

~Tamara Zellars Buck is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.