That's right: the other way we ring in Baby Jesus Month in this house? By trimming the hell out of our fake Christmas tree. My wreath had already been hung on the living room door, so now it was time to break out the big guns. It says something about me that the largest collection of stuff that I personally have stored in our hall closet is a giant box of the Christmas decorations. My grandmother's Nativity set from the Holy Land, the tree, the lights, and every last Royal Historic Palaces and Gisela Graham Christmas ornament I could get my hands on for the past 4 years. As the Husband so aptly put it when I cackled with glee, I am the anti-Grinch: nefariously drumming my fingers and twirling the proverbial goatee as I contemplate new and exciting cinnamon-scented depths of holiday cheer and festivity.
I got out the Nativity set. I unwrapped the fake candied fruits. I untangled the gold pine cones so lovingly crafted by my own two hands. I cranked up the Christmas music like I was DJing a frat party and - appropriately - did my best loud drunken co-ed impression as I belted out the chorus to Band-Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas?" Why? Because it's Christmas, fools. And I do Christmas like a boss. Next stop: Christmas cookies!
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| 6 feet of Yuletide glory... |
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| a new addition this year: tiny feathered birds |
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| another new addition: red and white jingle belled shapes |
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