Well, we finally dusted off the Christmas tree after it’s 12 month holiday and began the long, time-consuming task of decorating it.
In actual fact, it didn’t take as long as I thought it would. Each year that passes, my daughter gets better and better at decorating the tall, plastic edifice. Gone are the days now, when we had to wait for her to go to bed to rearrange all the baubles. She had an uncanny knack of placing them all on one branch.
This year, we haven’t had to do any redesign at all. The tree looks great with its hundreds of LED lights. I remarked to my wife that it is so much easier than when I was young and had to help my uncle put his tree up.
Every year, I had to go over to his house with my mum and put up their 5 feet tall Christmas tree. It was very old-fashioned, complete with lights that had coloured flower shades and tiny screw in bulbs. The problem was when one of the bulbs blew (which it did every year), they all went out. There I was, standing at the window like a surgeon, holding each bulb up to the light to see if the tiny filament had broken.
The only shop that had replacements for these ancient lights was Woolworths. But with each passing year, even they started to replace them with new ‘push-in’ bulbs. My uncle was against such new-fangled technology and persevered with them until it became easier to source an AK-47 then get any replacement bulbs.
As for us, I am hoping that our tree will survive the attack of the killer kittens this year. They have already started a systematic testing of its weak spots in hopes of bringing it down, but I wasn’t allowed to lay mines around the base.
Our knitted Mary is already nervously clutching the baby Jesus after it was kidnapped last year by one of our older cats. We also lost the donkey that year, which sadly has never been found.
My wife is considering hanging some very breakable figures on the tree, but I am trying to talk her out of it. Only because I know what will happen, and who will have to clear up the broken pieces afterwards.