No, not Christmas, silly. Swiss Days. Which is almost better. Get your lederhosen and Pinocchio cap and prepare yourself for the shopping experience of the year.
p.s. When you go--don't forget to buy yourself a Swiss Navajo Taco (how they came up with that I have no idea--must have been when the Europeans came west--or maybe when Pocahontas went to Europe? or maybe just when the Midway 1st ward relief society was planning the menu and were trying to make the main dish fit into the theme) anyway, they're good.
p.p.s. Don't show my dad, Lindy the English Teacher, this post. My grammar is atrocious. And one time when I was 7 we went to Swiss Days and waited in line for nigh unto an hour for one of the above mentioned Swiss Navajo Tacos and after I got one and was making my way to the table...wouldn't you know the dang thing slid off my plate into the dirt? He yelled. I cried. It was traumatic for all involved. Took me 3 years before I even dared go to Swiss Days again.
p.p.p.s. But that story wasn't to say that my dad is a tyrant. He's a real sweet guy. Really. Just don't drop a taco around him.