The tree is empty. The Christmas Tree. I have yet to unpack all the ornaments and I just can bring myself to worry about it. The only thing hanging on the branches are 4 beautiful ornaments colored by one of my favorite 6 year olds.
Can't I just leave the tree as is? Like, bare pine needles and all? And the star topper is sitting somewhere in my bedroom. Because that's totally normal, right? I may just start a new tradition this year. The ornaments-stay-packed-away tradition. I don't even think my kids will notice.
One of my favorite things about Christmas? When my kids start declaring what they want when we're this close to the finish line. Seriously. I'm on the downward slide to the wrap up and they start changing their minds. It's ridiculous.
The Baby Child just told me to "Return a bunch of stuff you already bought because I really, really want a basketball hoop." Ah, no. Santa can't fit that in the sleigh. And Child #2 told me this week that she so super bad wants a pair of new jeans. That only cost $170. Shazaam! When I asked her to stop for just a second and think about how expensive that is, she replied, "Well, can't dad just get a better job?" Well, duh. Of course.
Child #2 also texted me this week asking me to pick her up early from school. Why? Because she had to pee. Way bad. And this girl has a fear of using public restrooms. Well, not so much a fear as a refusal. So clearly, the logical solution is to just leave school early. Right?
I've started talking to myself. A lot. I'm pretty sure that's not good. On so many levels. Oh, and one of my kids pointed out that at times, my hair looks like a lion.
The Husband was using the restroom at work the other day. While washing his hands, he noticed in the mirror that the collar of his dress shirt was completely ripped and he had blood on his face from shaving. As he left the bathroom and started walking down the hall, the heel of his shoe fell off.
We're classy no matter where we are. Fact.
Keep it real this weekend, friends.