We have shredded the wrapping paper and tossed the bows aside. We have eaten our weight in holiday meals, holiday goodies, and holiday snacks. We have stayed up late and gotten up early. We have been to church. Twice. We have burned our candles at both ends.
(Which really never made any sense to me, because the wicks? They’re always just on the one end. I’ve yet to see a candle that can actually be burned at both ends. I’m just sayin’.)
Well, I was about merried and brighted out, as of 6:00 last night, and I may or may not have gone to bed at a very early hour last night, because I am, apparently, a senior citizen.
And don’t tell anyone, but our tree? It’s gone, people. And it’s not because we’re Scrooges over here at the Jedi Manor. It was simply a matter of logistics, because our Christmas tree plum refused to drink the water that we offered it, and we feared that it was going to need an IV bag of fluids in order to make it through Christmas Day. Oh, we GAVE that tree water, and that tree snubbed it, and that tree become a Local Fire Hazard.
And, as a consequence, every time someone breathed in and did a little exhale in the living room, eighty-seven pine needles would flutter to the floor.
Do the math. Eighty-seven pine needles times every single breath taken times three people who live here and breathe on a fairly regular basis.
That basically equals a naked tree, give or take six needles.
And since I am not necessarily a fan of walking across the forest floor in the comfort of my own living room, I’d had enough. So our tree, as of 1:30 this afternoon, is in the green dumpster at the local park, which is where the city is collecting trees. When Hubs returned home from dumping our tree off, I asked him, “So? Was our tree the very first one in the dumpster today?”
And, people, it was not! We were Number Three, which means that there are three other people in Small Town, USA who were having a pine needle crisis worse than we were. And also? Brother’s Wife announced at 1:00 this afternoon that her artificial, pre-lit tree-of-perfection was already down, so that’s one fake tree that beat us, too.
It actually feels plum good to have our house back to normal now.
Oh, and it actually feels plum good to have gotten twelve hours’ worth of sleep last night!
Yes. Twelve. Hours. Of sleep. Last night.
I feel like Wonder Woman today with my gold lasso and wristbands.
And now, with the boy and his cousins spending the night with Grammy and Papa in Small Mountain Town, Hubs and I have decided to have a date.
So the big Christmas post, in which I dazzle you with many poorly-taken snapshots, because I only WISH that I could be a great photographer, when, in fact, I am not? Well, that’ll have to wait until later, because THE DATE! IT IS ABOUT TO BEGIN! On account of the small fact that I actually like Hubs, and I am looking forward to a movie.
Happy Sunday night, y’all.