O Christmas Tree

I have never been one to get excited about Christmas decorating.  Oh, I used to fake it well enough when the kids were little and I thought I had to.  But even then, I got the bare tree up...strung it with lights...and then sat on the couch and handed ornaments to the kids, letting them willy-nilly lop-side the tree with clusters of decorations and bare open spots.
Resulting in such unique creations as this...

Yes, those are tube socks, stuck to the tree branches.  A three-year-old Parker's idea of beautiful.












And now, as the kids are older and even more involved in their own lives and sports and jobs, we found ourselves well into December with nary a decoration visible in our house.  When I finally asked Hillary, "So, how important is it to you guys to have a tree?" she looked at me in horror and said, "MOM!  You are such a scrooge!"  And her next night off was put on the calendar as "tree decorating night."
This time, I didn't even have to lug the tree out of the box.  My strong and manly son took care of that part.  And since we now have a pre-lit tree, I didn't have to do that part either.
I made coffee.
Parker, ever the man, made sure to use his pocket knife a lot.

And after the 10th time I made him freeze so I could get the perfect pic, he used it to make slashing marks toward his own throat when he thought I wasn't looking.

And he made sure to mutter and complain about exactly how much "work" Hillary was doing to contribute to this job.

I guess he had forgotten about the year Headgear Hillary put up the tree by herself while he did the Hula to the Christmas music...

But woven throughout all the eye-rolling and sections of burned out christmas lights and good natured complaining about each other, there was lots of laughter and banter and memories being made.

And in the end, no matter how the tree ends up looking...I am happy.  Because the two best gifts I've ever been given are sitting under my tree!