As I mentioned in Sunday's post, this past weekend was the Christmas kickoff at our house. Besides listening to Christmas albums (Rev. Horton Heat -We Three Kings is a favorite this year), putting up lights, and putting together gifts for out-of-town family, we also weathered the frigid cold to bring home the Christmas tree!
This year's tree wasn't the largest, or most symmetrical we have put up in recent years (you get much less critical when the weather is below 2o F, there is a brisk wind, and all the trees are covered with snow). But, thankfully after we arrived home and secured it in the stand, we were satisfied that this was no Charlie Brown tree either.
Mrs. LIAYF, after some pathetic begging on my part, agreed to depart from our White light only policy and add some colored lights into our Noble Fir, "For Luke's sake". Hopefully, the result will convince her that we can go with a technicolor tree next year too. I like the colors. Colors pretty.
And, in a brilliant move on her part, Mrs. LIAYF also instructed me to hang the crappiest of the ornaments at the bottom of the tree. I, being of narrow mind, hadn't considered this while pondering the perfect placement of our ever growing stash of priceless keepsakes. The wisdom of her ways paid off right away though as Lukas, warned many times against grabbing the ornaments within his reach, couldn't help himself and subsequently damaged several of them in just a couple hours.
I snapped a quick picture of these laid out on my kitchen island. I think I am going to call it the Island of Misfit Ornaments. Most of these simply have missing strings, except the Ice Skating ornament. This one suffered the most damage, and was probably our most cherished of them all (commemorating our first date). I'm confident that it can be fixed though, as Mrs. LIAYF is licensed in Washington to carry a glue gun.
Not included in the picture is the broken snow globe which we had to discard right away. Nothing says 'good parenting' like your 17 mo. old tugging at your pant leg so he can hand you a jagged chunk of curved, broken glass covered with wet glitter snow.
By the way, there is nothing wrong with the Robot, he just wanted to be a dentist.