The tree is up... and the lights are on it. And, when it came time to decorate the treeI realized that year after every-dang-year the Angsty Teen says she wants to help put the ornaments on the tree... and then I wait... and I wait... and I wait... and in the end... I end up doing them by myself because she is never in the mood to help after all.
This year I asked her if she wanted to help with the tree or if she wanted me to go ahead and drink copious amounts of wine and decorate it on my own. (Okay, that's probably not how I worded the question to her... that's just how it sounded in my head.)
She said she wanted to help.
Yep, that's what she said.
Pretty sure that girl is a dirty, rotten liar.
|Dirty. Rotten. Liar.|
She helped put the first ornament on the tree. It was a comical replica of the dog we no longer have.
We didn't cry when we put it on the tree... so that's progress... at least for the Angsty Teen. I wasn't sure if she would cry or not... but I was pretty sure I wouldn't cry.
I thought I would just be ever-so-slightly relieved that the damn dog wasn't barking liking a maniac in the middle of the night from our heated, attached garage... where he reigned supreme... at the end of the hallway... just down from our bedroom.
After that ornament was on the Christmas tree, and the Angsty Teen put approximately two more decorations on the tree... she proceeded to go sit at the bar counter and work on a project for band.
I guess I should be impressed that she put about three times more ornaments on the tree than she did last year. Just think... next year she might put up almost ten of the dozens and dozens of ornaments we have.
Anyway... now the tree is decorated and... yes... the bottle of Pinot Gris is gone... and by some strange quirk of fate... I'm not even mad that she didn't help. It's probably the wine.
I do like wine.