At my wife's urging (and threatened use of a cattle prod should I not comply with her wishes) I have dug the tree out of the storage shed and put up a few lights. (I'll be horsewhipped first before I will do anything as dumb as climb up on that ice covered deathtrap of a roof to put up any more.) The kids did a very good job of decorating the tree. Not even a hint of an argument between them as they did so gratifies me to no end. We even put together the gingerbread house that we bought. We have bought one every year for the past 11 years and this is the first time we actually put the darned thing together. Most of the time I will be going through the pantry in February and hold up the box to my wife saying, "I thought we put this thing together." Not this year. It has been put together, properly photographed for proof that we actually did it one year, demolished and devoured. As I look around, my home is feeling very nice at the moment. Now I just have to take all the d^%& boxes back out over the sheet of ice we call a driveway these days to the shed. This Christmas thing is going to kill me yet.
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