I love her all the time, but OH. MY. GOSH. Come November, it’s on. By Thanksgiving weekend we have more lights, poinsettias, mangers, Santas, snowmen, wreaths, tinsel, holly, and ornaments than anywhere south of the Arctic circle.
Most people slow down, lay back, and chill out the older they get. She gets more intense every year. Her goals get loftier and her Christmas decoration aspirations get higher every season.
More lights! More Christmas music! Cut down our own tree! More extension cords! Trips to Santa Land! More ornaments! More lights! More movies! More trees! Did I mention more lights?
I sure don’t want to squelch her enthusiasm, but MAN. It does get a bit exhausting. I love the result, but the ladder to the roof seems to get higher every Christmas.
She makes great Christmas dinners and awesome pumpkin pie. And don’t get me started on the brownie pudding. Excuse me. I’m getting a little misty.
I love my Christmas wife. She keeps it in her heart all year long. But for two months of the year? It’s Trans-Siberian guns a blazin’! Bring on the jolly!
And God bless us! Every one!