I came home from work that evening, tired and anxious for a couple days' respite, and sat down in the dining room for a late dinner. Something seemed...different...so I took a moment to analyze the room when what, to my wondering eyes should appear, but a Christmas tree sitting cozily in the corner. On November 1st. A FREAKIN' CHRISTMAS TREE!
I like Christmas, don't get me wrong. 'Tis the season, holly jolly and all of that, sure. But I just don't transition from spiders to Santas that quickly. I need time to rummage through the bags of clearanced Halloween candy, to get out my oversized fleece sweatshirts and my ridiculous cocoa mugs, and to indulge my inner fat kid on turkey and mashed potatoes.
I continued to stare at the tree, mesmorized by the 12 strands of colored lights that now glowed thanks to my husband's impatience and holiday enthusiasm. I looked at him, confused that somehow I may have dozed off and slept through the rest of November. Reading my confusion he offered "At least I waited until after Halloween...", as if the mere act of waiting was the equivalent of being beaten with a tree limb or having to give up the last Oreo.
He has been making pumpkin pies in a continuous stream now for about three weeks, so I should have seen this coming. We have boxes of ornaments and decorations enough for two houses, most of which end up out all at once. One by one I take some down and redistribute them until we have an tolerable number of singing Christmas trees and bell-ringing thingamajigs. And not only do we have all of the kid's gifts purchased (thanks Swagbucks!), but he has already assembled the toys in preparation for Christmas morning. I won't lie, I find that quite adorable. His desire to create some wonderful holiday memories with our kids is contagious, and seeing the kids squeal (and drool) in delight over the same miniature train that we've watched 29382948 times already this week does sort of warm my heart - even if it is about three weeks early.
So here's to 48 more days of Christmas music, twinkling lights, and tinsel-coated cat puke. If I disappear between now and then, I'm likely in an egg-nog induced coma.
PS, I hope I didn't ruin your manly image, honey. I know that, should the day ever come, Christmas decorations would take a back seat to a good 49ers game on TV.
Dear Alex- please send your husband to my house to assemble all the toys sitting in my basement hiding out for Christmas. I promise to return him. Thanks! Sarah
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