Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown.

Linus and his blanket are everything to me. I type this using my own 25-year-old baby blanket as a means to keep my head propped up. Does anyone know a Linus in real life? If so, please do let me know. I feel like we would make great friends—unless the Linus you know is a serial killer, then ignorance is bliss, and I can continue on Linus-less. That is until I get another dog, or have a child, or develop a new imaginary friend, and name any of those three Linus. As far as I am concerned, Linus is my baby Jesus. No Jesus, no Christmas. No Linus, no best-Christmas-movie-of-all-time. If it weren’t for Linus, no one would know what Christmas was all about. If you need a reminder, please educate yourself, and jump on this Linus train with me! Thank you, Mr. Schulz, you have created my cartoon soulmate. Now, go grab your co-dependent baby blankets, and tell me, what’s your favorite Christmas or holiday movie of all time?


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