We put up the Christmas tree Friday night. I never seem to get into the spirit of the season until the tree is up, and this year was no exception. It just wasn't the same without the Kiddo here. He's usually my go-to man for all things up high on the tree. Which is why I usually end up with about 20 ornaments right underneath the angel. He loves to rub it in that Captain Carl and I are shorter than him, so he's always "Wellll, guess I'll put another one right up here seeing that y'all can't reach. Heh heh." I don't have the heart to tell him that being 5'8" isn't really all that tall, except in our house.
Last year, we invited Renty to decorate the tree with us and it was fun, despite my urge to move every single thing he and Captain Carl put up into a more appropriate location on the tree. What? Every good tree decorator knows you can't put two gold stars next to each other. I'm not controlling and obsessive, that's just basic tree trimming knowledge. Shut up.
This year, Renty was working late so it was just the Captain and I and it was awesome. We had a little wine, we listened to classic Christmas music, we pulled 50 million fucking Christmas decorations out of the closet under the stairs, I put up the nativity scene (yes I used the words "fucking" and "Christmas" and "nativity" in the same sentence. I'm aware that I am going to hell.) Then we admired our handy work and I put 49 million fucking Christmas decorations back in the closet under the stairs because I must have been a crazy person to put up all this shit every year because who needs eight animated Santa Clauses seriously?
In other news, apparently it's cold enough here to put on the heat in the house. This is according to my husband, with whom I vehemently disagree.
Me: Why is the heat on upstairs?
Him: Because it's cold outside.
Me: It's going to be 68 degrees today!
Him: But right now it's 43 degrees.
Me: That's because it's 7am.
Me: It's colder because of being night time.
Him: Really genius?
Me: There is no reason to have the heat on.
Him: You mean besides that it's fucking cold?
Me: You are such a baby, this is not cold. *opens front door. steps out in bare feet* This is called "perfectly comfortable" where I'm from.
Him: Listen, Minnesota...you are in Texas now and 43 degrees is called "fucking cold" now.
Me: What a bunch of pansies.
Him: Renty lives upstairs. The heat stays on.
Me: I'm turning it off and if he complains, I will tell him to buy another comforter unless he wants to pay the gas bill.
Him: I knew this was about money.
Me: What? No! This is totally not about money. In fact, this is so not about money it's ridiculous.
Him: What's it about then?
Me: It's about...you know...ummm...acclimating to your environment and...ummm...something something saving the ozone layer.
Me: Totally not about money.
Me: Well, do you want to pay a $200 gas bill???? Huh???
Him: Sometimes you are so much like your mother, it scares me.
Me: I'm taking that as a compliment.
Him: Your mother is cheap.
Me: My mother is frugal.
Him: And last winter you kept it so cold in here that the Kiddo wore gloves and a ski mask around the house.
Me: He's just a drama queen like his father. I was trying to toughen him up and get him ready for the world! Unlike you, who wanted to coddle and keep him soft.
Him: Just go to work, you're going to be late if you keep arguing with me.
Me: *walking out the door muttering* Fucking 43 degrees and you turn the heat on? Give me a break. You think this is cold? Cold is when the temperature doesn't get above zero and your nostrils freeze shut. *yelling back at house* We don't turn our heat on up north until the lakes freeze over! Because we're tough! And don't like to waste money!
Neighbor: Is everything okay?
Me: Oh sorry, I wasn't yelling at you. I'm yelling at my husband WHO APPARENTLY LOVES TO THROW MONEY OUT THE WINDOW BECAUSE IT IS TOTALLY NOT COLD OUT HERE!
Him: *opens front door* Shut up and go to work already!
This is probably why our neighbors never talk to us. This and the fact that Captain Carl tried to dry hump me doggy-style yesterday in the front yard while I was bent over watering the flowers and when I yelled at him to stop it he whispered "Let them watch" and then spanked me. True story.
Twelve Years, Give or Take.
1 week ago