Not being one to procrastinate, I figured I would work on getting the Christmas tree taken down and out of the house before the end of January. I wanted to address the situation before it became a fire hazard, and waded right in.
Since my ‘help’ slows things down, I got the little girls off to school first. As soon as I got home, I removed all decorations, as well as the eight strands of Christmas lights my super-tall husband had put up. This required a ladder. I only pulled the tree over on myself only once. Dry, it was lighter than the fresh tree that Jeff dropped on me two Christmases ago.
Then I removed every single tiny tinsel strand and threw them in the garbage: this thing was going out to the woods and I didn’t want any little Bambies choking on shiny stuff. Now, my only New Year’s resolution is to hide the tinsel from Jeff next December.
After scooting and dragging the tree to the sliding glass door, it was obvious that it would not going to fit through the opening. I still tried. I wound up cutting limbs off the darn thing to man-handle it onto the deck. It will be days before I can get all of this pine sap off my hands.
During all of this, I found time for the laundry. Illness had gone through the family, so I stripped all beds, washed all sheets, towels and robes, and got them all put back in their places. I had the time to grab a cheese stick for lunch, a brief shower, and set some appointments.
Why do I list all of these things? After picking all offspring up from school, starting a fire in the wood stove and thinking about dinner, I took a second to flop down on the sofa beside Firstborn in front of the TV. She said “Mom, could you get me a drink?”
I said “Give me a second, and I’ll get back up.”
She turned to me and said “What’s it like not having a job?”