Great Pumpkins

When I was little TV and dinner did NOT mix. Like EVER. We had one family TV, it was down in the family room, and it certainly was not the center of family activity.
And before I get too far into this, I know I am no spring chicken, but people we are NOT talking about gathering the family to watch Ed Sullivan introduce the Beatles to America here. It wasn't THAT long ago. We just weren't that TV-centric when we were tiny. (Heck, I didn't have cable until The Hub and I got hitched in 2004, just some bunny ears, some tin-foil, and 6 or 8 channels "over the air.")
That being said, there were a few select nights of the year where (future) Dr Sissy and I made extra sure that we were our extra sweetest selves, because we knew that there was a holiday cartoon special on TV that night.
And if we were our most angelic, then while Mom was cooking dinner in the kitchen, Daddy would tug a positively ANCIENT old black and white cabinet TV from its position in the corner nearest the window in our living room (where it did duty as a plant stand 99% of it's senior existence,) open the sliding panel on top to reveal the knobs and switch the old timer on - which it acknowledged with a pleasant hum.
Now all of this firing up had to happen AT LEAST 20 minutes before your chosen program started because it took at least that long for the tube to warm up. Dr Sissy and I would watch intently as the screen slowly started to lighten more and more, until finally a black and white (actually it was more green and white) picture would appear.
The TV would get aimed towards the big old table in our warm country kitchen through the arched door way leading to the living room, and we settled down and ate our dinner and watched in silence. I was shocked to learn as I got older that these cartoons were not actually IN black and white.
To this day, as an old (but not THAT old) married lady, holiday cartoon specials are still a cause for celebration. There is still a "something special" about that night for me, and I will always hunker down, now with Potter chewing contently on his bone next to me, and watch the shows that were such a special treat to us when we were young. I catch a whiff of our warm cozy old kitchen, hear a hint of that old TV's hum. I feel safe and happy and home.
Tonight is "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown."
I bet this is the year he comes, Linus.