Holiday traditions can be comforting, something to cherish and anticipate.

Or they can be dreadful.

Take Martha Stewart. She, like most of us, bakes Christmas cookies every year. Cookies bring such joy. And playing salmonella roulette with stolen bites of raw cookie dough? Is there anything more Christmas-y than that?

But Martha also goes caroling. Spending an evening greeting people with songs sounds worse than vomiting salmonella-chip cookie dough.

Martha also builds a holiday playlist. That’s a tradition in my house too, although I only have 13 of the songs in this list by The Washington Post. Thirteen!

That might be related to my taste in music, which my husband often questions. But his music is morose, so I ignore him. I mean, he doesn’t even have a Christmas music list.

My list always includes “Heat Miser/Cold Miser” from The Year Without a Santa Claus because a great trombone is necessary for life. I also have “The 12 Days of Christmas (Live)” by Straight No Chaser.

It is both musical and comedy genius. That’s not easy to achieve.

And, of course, I have “The Chanukah Song.” I like parts one and two, although I can’t imagine Martha approving a holiday song about Yasmine Bleeth’s boobs.

My husband didn’t approve either when I played it for our kids. But I was trying to introduce them to the Beastie Boys. You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet, you know?

Martha also collects vintage holiday décor because she’s Martha and there’s probably a law about it somewhere. I do too. I have a Nativity set willed to me by a good friend’s mom, and ornaments passed on to me when my aunt’s mother-in-law died.

I’m not sure how I came to inherit these pieces, but they’re mine, they’re gorgeous, and I’m not giving them back.

I also have my mom’s Dickens Village. She’s not dead, but she stored fifty porcelain houses in my garage four years ago. Some of them made their way into my house, possibly via the skinks my kids have seen crawling through their snowy gables.

Better Homes & Gardens says cutting down your own Christmas tree is a fun tradition. We’ve done it since our kids were little. This year, our tree was full of Christmas spiders. Last year, our tree was too tall.

We cut off the top half. It looked more like a trapezoid than a triangle. That’s some Christmas geometry right there.

Watching It’s a Wonderful Life is also on the BH & G list. I watch it at least once every holiday season, as well as A Christmas Carol.

I have a thing for curmudgeons because my husband is like Scrooge, George Bailey, and The Grinch had a baby — adorable, but grumpy and not very festive.

Fortunately, I’m like Nephew Fred, Cindy Lou Who, and Clarence — as in Angel, Second Class — had a baby: cheerful, blonde, and almost an angel.

I curse too much to be a real-deal angel. That’s not going away.

Watching Hallmark Christmas movies is also on the BH&G list. But there’s only so much Christmas a curmudgeon can take. I’ll never turn my husband into a post-three ghosts Scrooge if I subject him to Hallmark movies.

Christmas lights are another must. I love this list of free light shows by The Philadelphia Inquirer, especially since my own light display is about as sad as my husband’s playlist.

The string of lights to the left of my front door has burned out in the middle. It looks like a kid in need of his two front teeth for Christmas.

The lights to the right of my front door won’t light at all. And I accidentally threw away the stakes that hold down the reindeer. My whole yard looks like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.

It’s too endearing to fix.

Finally, each year we sleep at my in-laws’ house on Christmas Eve. You’re thinking this is a tradition you can’t adopt, but you can. My mother-in-law is the kindest person I know. Tell her I sent you. She’ll pour the wine and watch your kids while you drink it.

My husband and I won’t be there.

Not because of you.

Our kids have told us it’s more fun to stay with their grandparents on their own. Apparently, our rules against unlimited soda and candy for dinner are unreasonable.

What tradition can my husband and I start on our own for a Christmas Eve without the kids?

Well, not one with music. That’s for sure.

I love this article from The Guardian. Readers shared their Christmas traditions. If I wasn’t already married, I’d be swiping right on the guy who suggested a Christmas keg.

Enjoy your Christmas traditions. I’ll see you Christmas morning at my in-laws’ place.

Tell the kids to put away the candy, though, would you?