Trimming the Nether-regions.
HA!
Gotcha.
This is what I meant.
After bringing our Luscious Perfect Christmas Tree home, Hank squirmed around on the floor cutting branches away so we’ll have some space in which to stuff presents.
Ewan, curious little bat, decided he needed to smell the tree like a flower. (And yes, he only has one shoe on. I found the other one about two days later.)
Little sweet Ellie-the-Brave (nope, not even) did the slinky walk right behind him, worried out of her mind. Poor baby. Her tail was tucked so tightly between her legs.
And yes, this is how pathetically attached we are to technology around here. Between yelling things like, “Lotta sap, Clark!” and “Will no one help me?!”, Hank had to stop trimming to tweet.
Hank tweeted.
Sounds funnier that way.
Something about pine needles in ears, I think.
One amazing tidbit of trivia about Hank? He’s the best, most meticulous light stringer I’ve ever seen. He wraps nearly every branch and twists and unknots and places them just so, even when he has to squeeze himself in between the couch and the wall.
So after those lights were strung, the boys shared the decorating. Holden did an excellent job of spacing things out so well, although only to about 4 1/2 feet high, but really, I’m so proud of him. And there were only three broken ornaments this year (so far).
These are Holden’s favorites. On the left, his favorite store bought one; on the right, his favorite homemade one.
I remember making those eggs with Hank our second Christmas here, along with about a million tiny wreaths with gold ribbon bows and stars made out of toothpicks. We had so little money, a very scraggly tree, and he nearly had an aneurism blowing out two dozen eggs. We sat for hours painting and glueing, and finally putting them so carefully on our little tree in our townhouse. Holden just loves them, even though we only have about four left from that two dozen. He and I took a little trip to Hobby Lobby a couple of nights ago to buy supplies to make more this year and he is ecstatic. Or maybe I should say, eggstatic?
Seems as though I’ve been drinking the eggnog, again.
I swear I haven’t.
Ewan is the proudest monkey about his decorating ability. Notice the blur in this picture?
It came with a resounding, “A-HA!” that exploded from him with every ornament he got to actually stick.
Good Lord, I love these people.
Finally, the tree topper…the glittery star.
Oui, c’est finis. And she is perfect. So far, the tree has claimed no lives, has captured no Todd-Helton-the-cat, nor has it fed the dog her water.
It’s shaping up to be a pretty darned good Christmasy time.
