Make The Yuletide Gay

So we decorated the tree last night. I had one of those days of running around, Post Office, bank, store, cook dinner, do the laundry, sweep, clean.....a real CinderFella, I am. And so the mood soured as the day went on. I hauled the box with the tree in--yeah it's fake, okay, I got lots a pine trees in my yard so why do I need another one left to die in my living room? Yeah, it's that kind of mood. Anyway, I got the tree, the ornaments, the garland, the lights, for inside and out, all out of the garage while Carlos was at work. He came home, and of course said I should have waited for him to get the tree out of the garage.

Wait for you, I sneer, Then we wouldn't have a Christmas tree up until Easter. Man, I can be a bitch! It's like Joan Crawford and the PepsiCo board. Don't fuck with me, fella. This isn't my first time at the rodeo.

So we eat dinner first, a delicious baked chicken breast, over rice with black beans, corn, tomato, poblano pepper, and a green mole. Delicoso! Then I change into my jackboots and Nazi uniform, because I am a tyrant about the tree. I don't know where it comes from, but there it is.

Put the little ones on the inside! It gives the tree more depth. I'm Martha Freakin' Hitler. More depth? What in the hell does that even mean?

No, you have to put some on the bottom.

Go to the OTHER side.

Put 'em on the back.

Not those! Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!

I goosestep around the tree, inspecting it, moving one ornament from branch to branch. We ran out of ornament hangers and Carlos walks away for a few minutes; he returns with a box of.......paper.....clips.

Paper clips! We are white trash. At last. Next year I think I'll get a stapler and a glue gun. Not for the tree, for Carlos.

Why not just string tin foil and plastic wrap around the tree, It's shiny and purty!

You put two blue ones side-by-side.

You have three on ONE branch!

You are not allowed to decorate the tree next year.

Of course Carlos, being the sweetest human being ever, simply smiles at my, well, histrionics, shall we say; my order barking. My just plain barking. My snapping. My yelling. My being a big old raging bitch. Tis the season! I need an egg nog, with extra nog, if you get my meaning.

Finally, finished. And without bloodshed. Well, Carlos bled a little when he jabbed his finger with a hanger, but I was out of the room, I swear. The cats will vouch for me! We light up the tree and sit and relax. It does look pretty but it needs more ornaments. I say that every year and every year we buy more and put them on. Pretty soon we'll do without the tree all together and just pile the ornaments in the corner and call it Christmas.

Sorry I snapped, I say.

It's okay, he mutters, his lower lip jutting out like a shelf.

Where's my gun?

That's a joke...........I don't have a gun.

Hmmmm. Maybe Santa will bring me one.