It’s the most wonderful, er, stressful time of the year.

OK, maybe those final few hours before April 15 tax deadline when you can’t remember where you tucked your W-2 so you wouldn’t lose it is more stressful, but the Christmas season is a more sustained stress.

That’s why I’m hiding in my blanket fort until roughly Jan. 12.

I believe the stress begins in earnest on Black Friday. That’s the day millions of shoppers all converge on the very parking space you are trying to pull into. And that’s just at the convenience store for coffee. Things don’t get crazy until you reach the mall.

Or so I’ve heard. I crawl into my blanket fort with my comic books and cookies shortly after the last piece of Thanksgiving pumpkin pie. I didn’t play football in high school, and I don’t feel like throwing elbows and tackling dummies now.

I’m told that malls are less chaotic in these cyber days. All the smart shoppers now wear their fingertips to the bone slashing about for online deals.

Trying to match the ever-expanding size of your shopping list — which takes up more paper than a CVS receipt — against your pay stub — which won’t even let you in the door at CVS — is a major cause of holiday stress.

I feel none of that inside the protective shell of my blanket fort. No lists are allowed.

But how, you ask, do I get my Christmas shopping done?

It’s already finished. After I finish reading each comic book, I slip it into a bag, along with a couple of cookies. I write a recipient’s name on the outside of the bag, add the words, “Merry Christmas,” and I’m done, stress free.

After Jan. 12, I will emerge from my blanket fort, and over the following months, pick up a fresh set of Donald Ducks, Archies, Little Lulus, Uncle Scrooges and maybe a Batman or two. By the time I need to burrow into the blanket fort again next year, I’ll be ready, stress-free.

There’s no reason to worry over a tree or any other decorations. A Christmas tree won’t fit inside my blanket fort. The only light I need is a battery-powered camping lantern. Or just a flashlight.

I also keep a couple of pillows inside my blanket fort. If the batteries fade so that I can’t read comic books, I’ll just take a nap.

This season also is full of stress for holiday hosts. We act like company will arrive wearing white gloves and will immediately check the top of window frames for dust and baseboards for splotches.

Hosts will stock bathrooms with fancy guest towels and guest washcloths, and woe be to any guest — or worse, family member — who actually uses the fancy fabrics or designer soaps, or, perhaps, even the bathroom itself.

It would be less stressful for everyone involved if guests simply went outside and used the bushes. The neighbors’ bushes, I mean.

Here inside my blanket fort, we don’t fret over such things. You can’t see baseboards or window frames from inside the shell of blankets (which double nicely as towels).

I might still use the neighbors’ bushes, but I don’t have to. I set out no special towels or soaps to sabotage anyone’s powder room experience. It’s a blanket fort rule.

It helps that I don’t throw any parties. I’m not against a gathering, but you bring the pizza. Who has time to spend days thawing and cooking a turkey when there’s perfectly good pepperoni and sausage to be had on a convenient plate of bread dough?

True, I might need more chairs and blankets to expand the fort, but that’s cool. Bring your own comic book collection and maybe some Christmas fudge, and we’ll hide away together in the blanket fort no-stress zone and enjoy the Christmas season.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year here inside my blanket fort. Grab a comic book and cookie. It’s my gift to you. No stress.

Actually, Cole is just hoping to avoid housework and spending money. Chill out with him at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.