Mothers against Christmas Trees!

So like every good little housewife I put my Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving. Since then I've decided that I absolutely hate Christmas trees. If I die and meet the man who first came up with the idea to put a decorated pine tree up in your living room for a month and a half (or in the case of my mother-in-law, five months) ,I think I'll talk God into letting him get reincarnated to the body of a pine cone or something so I can kill him. Now before you all think I'm a terrible terrible synic let me assure you that I have some very valid reason for hating the Christmas tree, so hear me out.

1) I spent a very, very long time decorating this fake tree I have up in my living room, and a substantial amount of money too, I might add. I got the finest garland and red-and-white glitter balls Target had to offer. lol. Then spent a dizzying two hours wrapping it around and around the tree. Before this I had to get the tree out of the box and "fluff" it. "Fluffing" the branches is a teidious job. Each branch must be properly stretched and pointed in the right direction or you'll inevitably end up with a gaping hole.

2) I carefully unwrap the nice Hallmark ornaments my mother-in-law gives to all the kids every year and place them on branches evenly spaced as to not make them look too crowded. This year I also decided to wrap giant ribbon around my tree, just to add that extra little spice.

3) fifeteen minutes after finishing the final touches to my almost perfect tree, I walk back into the living room to find half the glitter balls on the floor, and some of them were missing the paint as my eleven-month old baby, Harrison decided to eat them.

4) After talking to some trusted family members Nate and I decide that the paint is probably non-toxic since they were bought last year.

5) We have to then re-decorate the tree, leaving no decorations at the very bottom of it in order to prevent Harrison from eating any more of them. Now my once-almost-perfect Christmas tree looks like its not wearing any pants.

6) Today, I find that my four-year-old boy has been playing with the little ceramic ornaments as if they were action figures. Who can blame him really, our ornaments are in the likeness of Charlie Brown and Frosty the Snowman. It's probably near impossible temptation for a four-year-old. The ornament of his obsession was a Shrek reading a christmas book to his little shrek babies. In short, Shrek's little babies no longer have their cute little ogre ears.

7) When my husband finds out what Matthew has done theres going to be hell to pay. And if my mother-in-law ever found out, which she probably will since my kids have big mouths, she'll be terribly hurt. She'll most likely think that its another example of how I never appreciate anything thus I don't take proper care of them. What am I supposed to do? Build a plexiglass box around the stupid tree? Christmas trees should be sold with such boxes.

Next year I'm going to convert to Judism. A Manora is much easier to deal with!