Christmas tree fever hits me at about the same time every year. Every year except for this one.
So, last week, I posted something on Facebook requesting my friends to “hold me back” from putting the tree up any earlier than the day after Thanksgiving. That’s when we usually do that sort of thing.
But my friends, they pretty much just added fuel to the yuletide fire. Which is exactly why we’re friends in the first place.
Even husby, the Grinch, was all “Dude, it’s a fake tree. You could have put it up in the summer if you really wanted.”
But despite all the encouragement, I sat and stewed, wanting to have the tree gracing our living room without actually having to do any of the work to get it there. Then, when Mk’s birthday came, she asked to put the tree up – a girl after my heart – so we did it. Mostly because it’s tough to argue with someone that cute, but also because I was itching to do it anyway.
Hey, maybe that’s why my other half didn’t shun the idea…? Because I’m too cute to argue with!
Anyway, we put our Christmas tree up on Sunday! Because, really, what’s a few extra days, right?
Since then, however, the girls have been using it as a doll house and to my son it doubles as a catcher’s mitt/wrestling buddy. And all three of them hang out underneath it like it’s a tent.
I spend more time picking up ornaments and hooks off the floor than I do anything else, and have had to string the lights back up about 14 different times.
So, what’s a few extra days…?
Well, in mama years, it’s like an eternity.