weekend fight and merry christmas

 

 There is usually a root to a fight.  You're actually mad about something  you're not even fighting about.  Some days I fight because I feel fat, some days I fight because I feel tired.  It just depends.  This particular fight happened (I believe) because Tod was gone most of the weekend doing church stuff.  Which is awesome for church but crappy for me.  I was tired and done with my kids.  D-O-N-E.

Except this one...she does no wrong

Lennon's interpretation of baby Jesus

 

This might be long.

 

So Saturday night we took the boys to dinner then to a lot to pick out a real tree.  We've had our fake one for 10 years so it was time.  I personally prefer perfect, symmetrical, fake trees.  They're convenient, clean, beautiful, easy.  Tod likes things a little crappy and a little ugly.  He always wants life to be rough around the edges for kids so they don't get too spoiled.  Make 'em walk!  We don't need doctors!  Get 'em the worst tree on the lot!  Once there, Tod couldn't believe the prices so he opted for the tiniest tree aisle where we he picked out a little baby tree.  It's probably 5' tall.  Fine.  I don't care.  Get the tree, let's go.

 

This year I also decided to purchase NEW ORNAMENTS (!) after 10 years of the same stuff I bought when we were first married.  I went to Target and figured out my plan and spent too much $$$ by accident and came home with half their Christmas merchandise.  New decorations -- I was pretty excited.

 

Well.

 

On Sunday after church I asked Tod to hang lights on the tree so we could decorate it.  He suggested the big red ball lights he bought for the yard to put on the tree.  I said NO! all red lights is NOT what I want...that looks satanic and this isn't a brothel blahblahblah.  I left for a meeting and when I came back -- RED BALLS ON MY TREE.  Hahaha you're funny Tod - I don't like it.  Hahaha he says well the boys and I DO like it.  How about adding white lights? he asks.  Fine.

 

The next time I checked the tree had red ball lights, white lights, and FLASHING colored lights.  I started seeing my Christmas vision slip away and I got mad.  It was getting late.  Kids were ready to decorate.  I kept saying I DON'T LIKE THIS I DON'T WANT THIS I SERIOUSLY HATE THIS but it was almost like no one could hear my voice?  So we decorated the tree.  And when we were done and the kids ran up to bed, I unplugged the lights.  The red glow was in every corner of my house and I felt like we were prostitutes.  Christmas prostitutes. 

If you look closely you can see Satan himself peering from the branches

Me: I hate this tree.  I don't even want to look at this tree.

Tod: I thought you said you WANTED red balls.

Me: TOOOOODDDDDD!  Do you recall our conversation?  I said they looked satanic.  I feel like my tree is bloody.

Tod: Santa wears red.

Me: Christ wears white. 

Tod: That's why I added OTHER LIGHTS because you didn't just want red balls.  I thought you LOVED red balls.
Me: ------
Tod: Let's put all your new decorations up.
Me: WHERE?!  This entire, tiny, 4' tree is covered in crap lights.  There is no room...sniff...for any of my...sniff...new decorations.

 

That's when I went into the garage and cried.

Mostly because I was sitting next to a box of brand new, beautiful decorations that had to wait until next year so Satan's tree could spend 30 days in my house.

 Then a text to Megan:

 

Me: TOD PUT RED BALL LIGHTS ON MY TREE AND IT LOOKS DISGUSTING SO NOW I'M IN THE GARAGE CRYING.

 

Megan: Go inside, take everything off the tree, re-do the whole thing how you want it.  Seriously.  My tree is my greatest holiday pleasure and I'll be damned if it's ugly.

 

Me: I told Tod let's just puke on it while we're at it.

 

Megan: Re-do the tree after everyone's asleep.  Like a Christmas miracle.

 

I had no intention of doing this.  It took hours to put it up, I didn't want to take more time to do it over.  But as I got into bed that night my whole body felt sad and even though I knew it was stupid I also knew I'd never get over a Whorehouse Christmas as long as I lived.  So I got out of bed, went downstairs and I redid my tree.  Vacuumed the room, stared at it for awhile, then went to bed.  Perfectly happy.  Fight over. 

 

Merry Christmas.

 

P.S. Ongoing fight: Tod says when you have a real tree you have to turn off all heat to keep it alive.  The first morning of this my baby girl felt like a little popsicle when I picked her up from her crib.  Not happening.