I hope I don't break my arm while patting myself on the back. We reached a major milestone here today at our Home Sweet Backroads Home. I'm quite proud to announce: "The Christmas tree is down, man!"
The credit really goes to my boys, who performed the laborious duties of undecorating and dismantling. The Pony rounded up the storage bins and plucked the ornaments off the permanent evergreen. He hit a snag at the angel on top. Even though he's in the midst of a 13-year-old's growth spurt, he could not reach the pinnacle of that plastic pine. I told him to grab the red wooden backscratcher that I received as a Christmas gift, and shove it up the angel's skirt. That tipped her off her lofty perch.
Genius ripped Very Old Tannenbaum limb from limb. With some difficulty. "This is some kind of black magic tree! It won't fit in the box it came in!" Of course, that artificial Yuletide conifer was in three sections, supposed to fold up like an umbrella. And we know that boy has a problem when it comes to umbrellas.
The sudden desire to take down the tree originated with Genius. We are upgrading our Dish Network receivers, and adding a fourth one. The installer dude is coming Friday morning at 8:00. Apparently Genius sees something wrong with a Christmas tree in July. He acts like I'm some kind of hoarder.
I object. This is the first year I kept the Christmas tree up past January 7. I am not attached to any of the junk around my house. It's not like we're walking on pizza boxes and mummified cats, or wending our way through cardboard-box canyons, or can't use the kitchen for cooking because of an overabundance of mail-ordered Big Mouth Billy Basses. No. We have everyday clutter like books on the end table, assorted phone, camera, and laptop cables on the coffee table, and clean, rolled-up socks on the floor. I don't know why we need to make a good impression on an entry-level Dish installer. The last time I checked, Queen Elizabeth had declined our invitation to join us for high tea.
One added benefit to trying to impress the satellite guy: Genius stowed away the Easter baskets from which he and The Pony had been intermittently feeding on their least-favorite candies.
Is it time to carve a pumpkin yet?