It’s depressing, but it must be done. We used to leave our Christmas decorations up until January 6th, but since I’ve been working full time, I like to get the house back to normal before I return to work after New Year’s. With football games playing in the background, my job this year included chiding, “That’s a terrible thing to say!” and “Do you mind?” at appropriate intervals as the two guys yelled at the TV. The Pack still lost miserably.
I started in the kitchen, carefully boxing up the Christmas dishes— some of which we actually used this year! David began in the dining room by packing up the nativity scene that his grandparents made eons ago, and when I went to polish the dining room table, the room resembled an explosion in a sawmill. David immediately blamed it on the camels. Filthy beasts.
Michael was tall enough to reach the top of the tree, even working around the treadmill, so he pulled off ornaments, garland, and lights while we all stowed them in the proper containers. There was a suspicious amount of bubble wrap left over, which makes me think that there are breakable objects hiding somewhere. Oh, like this glass Christmas tree on my desk. Oops.
The downstairs is now clear of all decoration, green needles vacuumed off the rug, sawdust swept off the dining room table and floor, and even the treadmill cleaned. Now all that remains, David says, is to take the Christmas throw rugs to the carwash for their annual cleaning. Sometimes, I just don’t ask questions.