The Christmas decorations had to come down.
Which was easy. Because we don’t put them up. There is, however, the tree and the lights along the front of the house to contend with.
A late night and much alcohol consumed last night, albeit with great friends, does not bode well for doing much, really. I managed some work, but the flashing lights of the Christmas tree in the room opposite me were annoying. They were saying “take us down, take us down”.
I dragged Grumpy off the couch, and enlisted the help of the two kids. Within seconds, Grumpy was delegated to the front of the house to remove lights, and be as far as possible away from me.
The two big kids spent the time it took me to remove all the ornaments, tinsel and most of the lights complaining about stuff, then offering to “help” when I was up to the Neatly Folding Lights And Placing Them Back In Their Boxes. A task that I take much care with after spending five hours one Christmas Take Down untangling lights.
I just wasn’t in the mood for it however; just didn’t have the energy or inclination. Nor the ability to neatly place lights in their box whilst preventing (unsuccessfully) then removing Chippie from the Christmas Decorations Box, into which he had climbed and possibly killed yet another set of lights.
Whist I’m here, how many sets of Christmas tree lights does one family actually need for a 6 foot tree? Surely seven sets is excessive?
Being in a somewhat relaxed mood, I had donned my pyjamas, and spend the majority of the time removing items from the tree being subject to some form of Nordic acupuncture of the breasts. The tree appears to have been neglected in the Remember To Water department, and the pine needles were dry, stiff and very sharp and pointy.
I also imagine – and prefer to believe – that all live Christmas trees