The Tree (The Finale... Almost)

Who ever knew that decorating a Christmas tree involved blood, a swollen nose, a bitten finger and Michael Jackson?  Interested?  Read on!

But first... the tree:

Okay, so, kicking and screaming my "boys" finally came out to the living room to help me decorate the tree.  I had to crack the whip, yell, plead and cajole, but they finally dragged themselves away from their nap and computer to get the tree done. 

I jest.

Sort-of.  The Hubs really was taking a nap and I woke him up to get us going on decorating, and the son really was engrossed in a "really good movie" on his computer.  It had subtitles.  I think it was animated too.  Really? I don't think it was that good. 

I jest again.  Sort-of.  Maybe it was a good movie, but I didn't care.  The tree MUST get decorated. 

Our family has a very sarcastic and sometimes sick sense of humor, so ... well, needless to say, my holiday times are never warm and fuzzy.  And they are often just off the wall.  Often we are just harping on one another.  An outsider would probably think we were bickering and arguing.  Inside the family, it's how we show we love each other. 

I think. 

I hope. 

We listen to "Twisted Christmas" carols.  One of the worst (and a favorite in the family) is a little girl singing, "There's something in the chimney, and I don't know what it is, but it's been there all night long..."   She goes on to sing about how it's there all week long, all year long... well, you can guess who's up her chimney.  Poor ol' Santa.  On top of the crazy "carols", you just never know what inane chatter will come out!  One piece of our conversation was about Michael Jackson and the Jackson Five singing "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus".  Bits and pieces:

My son:  I always forget that Michael sings this song.
Me:  Uh, why would you even know it... he sang it before you were born!

Later... same song...

Son:  Why wouldn't Michael know who is mom was REALLY kissing?  Really?  He couldn't tell it was his dad?

(Did I mention my son is 20-years old?  And yeah, he's pretty much serious.)

Me:  It wasn't his dad.  It really WAS Santa.  Really!  His mom and dad were separated by then.

And then my husband degenerated the conversation into some pretty lewd and graphic comments about Santa Claus, "mommy" and what they were doing beyond just kissing.  Yep, we get that way.

Disclaimer:  I really love Michael Jackson.  I miss him (the 80's and 90's version) and really felt his death.  We lost a lot of great celebrities this year.  But I digress.

Somewhere in the night as I blew my nose (sinus issues ya know... tis the season), I realized that, well, it was a nosebleed, and not sinus issues.  Joy.  I can't remember the last time I had a nosebleed.  As soon as i got that back under control, back to the tree.  More banter.  More... "bickering'.

Anyway... the night culminated to me trying to "pants" my son (who is always wearing too-big clothing) and him bringing his arm down fast to catch the pants but instead, caught me HARD on the bridge of my nose with his elbow.   (Think Marcia Brady getting hit in the face with a football:  OH MY NOSE! only my son's elbow is harder, pointer and bonier than a football). 

I cried. He was very sorry. The rough-housing and jokes stopped. The tree got decorated pretty quickly after that. All except those ornaments we saved for the daughter who comes back home on Friday...which makes this the almost-finale.  The photo above was without any lighting in the room except the tree lights.

As I couldn't move much after being smashed in the face (OH MY NOSE!), I sat on the couch taking pictures.  I messed with the settings on the manual option on my P&S camera and took a few zoomed-in on the tree.  I thought these turned out okay:

While we were sitting there, enjoying the fruits of our labor, Kitty #4 jumped up on my husband's lap and sacked out as if SHE had done all of the work and deserved a lovely little cat nap:

See that paw hanging out there?  The one turned up to the sky?  Please tell me you're not tempted to touch that little paw.  No?  Well, I sure was.  Sadly, this little kitty does not like me.  She's very much The Hubs' cat.  She didn't really appreciate my 'tickle, tickle, tickle', nor did she smile upon my 'high five'.  Especially when I kept repeating them...

She's quick.  I have teeth marks in my hand and finger. 

Yeah.  I deserved it.  But only THAT one.  Not the elbow to my nose!

I'm dizzy now.  I think I'll go lay down.

Happy Wednesday!