Dexter halls with boughs of holly. (Can you tell I live with a preschooler?)
Yep. We’re getting ramped up for Christmas around here. And so far, it’s gone pretty smoothly. With a few minor hiccups. Such as:
“Donna pull on the Christmas tree, Chip!”
Oops. Timberrrr! But Donna worry. He’s okay. After we unlodged the pine needles from his forehead, he’s perfectly fine.
Shirley you remembered to check the Christmas lights before stringing them. Didn’t you, momma?
After cleaning up our little lumberjack, and then wrestling with the lights for 2 hours, Anita beer. Seriously.
Anna body know what the problem is here?
Ima back from da store. With this.
Ida written a real post tonight but, honestly, getting the tree up and decorated just about tuckered me out.
But at least I have this to show for it. Ain’t she pretty?
I gotta tell you, I love Christmas. I really do.
And, despite my husband’s gentle hints each year that we should get one of those fake, pre-lit trees, I never give in. I love getting a real tree. I love the smell. I love the twinkle of each little glittery ornament. And, yes, I even love putting on the lights.
But one thing’s for certain. Putting on the lights? Is a whole lot more fun when the lights actually work when you plug them in. And when you have a cold beer in hand.