a heaping pile of holiday cheer

We finally bit the bullet and decided to start decorating our apartment for Christmas today.  It's never an easy task.  We don't even have that much to display - one box of decorations, one tree and the lights/decorations for that tree.  That's it.  But getting those few things out are the makings of WWIII in this house.

It starts with the young one.  He would rather not be bothered with it.  There are video games to be played and movies to watch instead.  Decorating is so boring.  "Why can't you just do it?"

Then there's the husband who knows that the tree will frustrate him to no end.  Undoubtedly, at least one string of lights on the pre-lit tree will be out, then after two hours of changing fuses and wiggling bulbs around and having them miraculously pop on for no reason, the branches will still have to be fluffed creating dust clouds that induce sneezing for another three hours while we try to distribute our ancient ornaments evenly amongst the rayon "needles."  "We don't have to worry about Santa anymore.  Can't we just get a table-top tree?"

Don't these guys know the way decorating is supposed to go?  We're supposed to put on sweaters, drink egg nog, listen to our favorite Christmas carols (while singing along, of course), and hang the stockings by the chimney with care with tons of love in our hearts and big freaking smiles on our faces, dammit!

Do they look happy or what?

After opting out of the cable holiday music channel when they started playing cheesy Vanessa Williams versions of songs, we put on A Christmas Story, and brought up the boxes, cracked open the store-bought egg nog and got to work.  The hubster commenced assembling the tree while the son and I started unloading the box of assorted wall and shelf decor.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly.  Fa la la la la la la la la...

It didn't take long before the kid was sitting on the couch watching the movie.  I'd give him something else to put somewhere, he'd do it and then sit right back down again.  Soon after that, a deep growling noise came from the tree area.  It wasn't either of our dogs, no, it was my husband.  He had plugged in the tree and, as expected, half of the lights weren't lit.  I tried calming him down with suggestions of simple things like looking for plugs that weren't plugged in or checking for loose bulbs, but he didn't seem to appreciate my help.


I backed away slowly and resumed forcing the kid to help me with the other stuff, but it didn't last long because mere minutes later, dearest hubby was yelling at the lights.  His large fingers couldn't grab the tiny fuses that he was trying to take out of the plugs.  I helped him with those and got up to find the kid back on the couch.  Hubster got up to find more fuses, but couldn't.  That went over well.  He went across town to buy fuses and/or lights and left us to continue with the rest.   Most of my time was spent getting the kid to keep moving, but somehow we got things taken care of before he got back home, fuses in hand, swearing he's never going out there again.

'Tis the season to be jolly.  Fa la la la la la la la la...

He replaced the fuses in one string of lights and they popped on.  Success!  This should work for all of them, right?

Wrong.

After a few more tries and a few more choice words for the lights, he decided to give up before tearing the whole thing apart with his bare hands.  "That's it!  We're getting a new f---ing tree!"  Looking at the kid on the couch, and the steam coming out of hubby's ears, I conceded.


Fa la la la la la la la...oh forget it.

Of course, we can't afford a new tree until next week, so we sit with a big hole in the living room where the tree's supposed to go, and blood pressure levels that have skyrocketed.  At least we have one festive and very important area of our home...the "bar"

I have a feeling it's going to get a lot of use this holiday season.

Oh, and next year, I'm just going to handle the decorating on my own.  And I'll be wearing a holiday sweater, listening to John Denver & the Muppets sing Christmas songs, and smiling.

Fa la FREAKING la!