Guess what? We finally decorated our tree tonight!
We. Are. So. Slack.
We had just finished dinner when Ella turned to me.
Ella: Do you want to put the decorations on the tree?
Me: Do we have to?
Ella: Yes.
Me: Then why did you ask me?
Ella: Maybe I wasn't really asking.
Me: I don't want to. Christmas is almost over. We'll just be taking it down again in a few days. Who am I kidding? We all know it'll be up until at least Groundhog Day.
Ella: Too bad.
Me: I'm tired. I don't want to.
Ella: Zoey wants to.
BOOM! BAM! POW! Can you believe she played the Parenting Guilt Card? Isn't that a move usually reserved for grandmothers?
So like a whipped dog good husband and father, I went to the garage and pulled out the boxes of decorations.
I opened the plastic storage box and pulled out the big plastic mistletoe. I hung it up and explained to Zoey that when two people walk under the mistletoe at the same time, tradition dictates that they must kiss. So Zoey and I walked under the mistletoe a few times and kissed. Then she would have Ella and I walk under the mistletoe and kiss. And then it was Zoey and Ella's turn.
You get the whole nauseating picture.
At what age do kids get tired of kisses from their parents? 13? 10? 8? 5? I know it'll happen soon enough, so I try to sneak as many as I can. Truth be told, as independent as Zoey is, I can't believe she hasn't already begun pushing us away.
I began unpacking the ornaments. Zoey immediately began oohing and aahing. See, we have mostly cartoon ornaments. We have characters from Rocky & Bullwinkle, The Simpsons, The Nightmare Before Christmas, various Dr. Seuss stories, Bloom County, Peanuts, and a host of other cartoon-related ornaments. Sadly, all of these were bought before we had children. I could almost hear Zoey thinking, "Wow. We're decorating the tree with toys!" Something tells me we earned major Kiddie Cool Points tonight.
So I would hand Zoey an ornament and she would place it on the tree (with a little help from Ella). We now have a beautifully decorated tree — from three feet down.
But I seriously doubt Ella's inner Martha Stewart will allow the tree to remain that way.
As we were clearing the aftermath, Zoey was jumping on the couch, one of her favorite pastimes. She slipped and her hands landed on the corner of the plastic lid of the ornament box, causing it to flip up and catch her right underneath her eye. The area underneath her eye turned purple and started swelling immediately. And then the tears came.
But since she's a tough cookie, I asked her if she wanted to play some soccer and she immediately stopped crying, hopped off the couch, and came over and started kicking the ball with me.
I did learn one very valuable lesson tonight. After we played soccer for a few minutes, I foolishly decided to take her to the bathroom and show her the damage she had caused. One look in the mirror and she began crying hysterically, claiming "IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!"
I guess there's some truth to the saying "out of sight, out of mind."
GHS: 2 (just because I hate seeing my girl in pain)
Because It's Never Really Christmas Until Someone Gets A Black Eye
