Christmas has thrown up all over my living room. That image ain't exactly pretty...and well, neither is the little farm at the moment.
There are legions of nutcrackers not yet in formation. There are boxes that I will open with more anticipation and surprise than those that find their way under the tree. I swear I have some sort of Christmas decoration amnesia.
The Fella does. I know this because of the conversation we have every year. And by conversation I'm referring to him standing at the bottom of the attic ladder repeating-
This better be the last one.
Thank goodness he can't see me standing at the top of the ladder. I'm pretty sure I'm wearing an expression that screams one of those fiber optic trees at the CVS register would look really good with my bowl of festive Hershey kisses.
I opened one box last night and admired the adorable little mouse ornament perched on top. Of course I wasn't surprised when I didn't remember buying the little guy.
And then he ran out of the box. Eek.
Good thing we have six cats....who don't know a darn thing 'bout catching mice.
It's a good thing I'll forget about all of this before next year comes around.