I know, I know. Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet. Well, maybe not, but I'm already getting into the Christmas spirit. Last night Richard and grandson Lane pulled the tree and boxes of ornaments down from the attic. Then they shook out and stood up the tree, leaving the decorating for me. I did that today, then realized that I'll need new ribbon since the old ones were puppy shredded last year.
I haven't decorated the tree in a couple of years--Richard usually does it all while I'm at work. However, I insisted that we be the first ones in the family to have the tree up. We've NEVER been first for this honor. That's because Richard's mom generally kicks everyone out of her house on Thanksgiving afternoon so she can put up her tree. She buys and wraps gifts all through the year, so by this time, most of her gifts are bought, wrapped and ready to display. She's just about impossible to outdo.
Not this year. This year it's our turn. Oh, I'm not really thrilled, mind you. I don't have to be first and Richard usually is the last one in a line. I just wanted to be first one time.
Turns out it's not all that. No one is singing my praises or congratulating me, or even saying, "Hey, you win." Why not? Really, why the heck not? I worked hard to get two big men into the attic. I had to promise cheesecake to make it happen. I also had to put the decorations on the tree, and chances are pretty good that now I'll have to undecorate after Christmas. (I tell Rich you made the mess, you clean the mess. I fear he will use my words in about a month.)
So much for saying "nanny-nanny boo-boo" to everyone I know. Next year we may not even put the tree up. After all, if this is the big to-do for getting the tree up first, there's no reason for bothering, is there?
I'll just open presents and smile my happy smile knowing I don't have to con a man or two.
Mrs. Claus must have to work really hard to get Santa out into the middle of a cold, frosty night.