What's Wrong With This Picture? A Christmas Story...

Normally, I would probably lose my temper patience over this, but it's really so funny that I keep breaking into unbridled laughter every time I pass by the living room and see the tree. I just have to crack up.


This was is our Christmas Tree before Mr. Snooty had to take it down last year.







This is our Christmas Tree after Mr. Snooty got into the holiday spirit this year. Bless his heart, he just gets so excited over Christmas!



I don't want to go into the whole faded middle-of-the-tree thing. For now.





He even commented on how great the tree looked when I was done decorating it. Yes, I must admit this is really one of my best trees ever. Hellooooooo. Maybe it's just me. But, sometimes I really do feel like Ralphie's Mom.







This is what our Christmas Tree looked like for three years before Mr. Snooty (The *Handyman*) decided to manhandle take control of the tree situation, getting it out of the house, as I requested. I guess I should have requested Alive... not Dead.




This is how the Christmas Tree looks after Mr. Snooty (The *Handyman*) left the scene of the crime. Whew! I think we were lucky that the carnage wasn't worse. Our old tree was truly pathetic after years of *ahem* tender loving rip-it-through-the-door-at-all-costs-devil-may-care kind of TLC. We have a method to taking care of our things, but I won't delve into that now.

Geeze Loueeze! Do I see a couple of rows of lights out? Hmmmm...




Tonight when he came home he said "You be sure and let me know if I can help with the outside decorations". Sure thing, Dear. I can hardly wait to see what innovative ideas you have for the outside this year.... Oh, the possibilities are simply mind boggling.

But, in all fairness... he might just need to get his glasses tweaked.

This is the same man who once demanded that I install a clothes hook by his side of the bed so he could hang his robe there and wouldn't have to walk all the way over to the closet. I rest my case. Lucky for him that he sleeps in my great-grandmother's four poster bed. You know. So that he can just hang his clothes on the posters. Oh. Yeah. Baby. He's a keeper all right.