I love the holidays. I am one of those people that starts listening to Christmas music the minute Santa’s sleigh makes its appearance in the Macy’s Day Parade. I decorate my house inside and out…EVERY room, including the bathrooms. I make my husband wrap the lights tediously around EVERY branch of our Christmas tree so it appears to be twinkling. He hates this, but he does it because he knows how happy it makes me. He’s a good man.
This year started off as no exception. Christmas music playing non-stop starting on November 24th…check. Christmas tree that would make Clark Griswold shed a tear…check. And then I started to go about the rest of my usual decorating habits when I decided it was just too much trouble this year, what with two VERY needy babies breathing down my neck, crying the minute I left the room, wanting to be held, rocked, sung to, tickled, anything to keep them happy. It was just too much trouble. BAH-HUMBUG!
Our tree came down on New Years’ Day and I have to tell you I was thrilled to box up all the decorations and bury them in the attic until next year. Maybe by then I will have the energy to bedeck the house in its usual holiday cheer.
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