How Decorating the Christmas Tree Cured my Inner Grinch

Amid the sea of news feeds about the Duchess up the duff, the other night I put up Mum’s Christmas tree. I know what you’re thinking…. ‘Noooo way… you put up the Christmas tree instead of watching your Twitter feed erupt with news of the pregnancy announcement?!’

Why yes I did…

I erected* Mum’s fake Christmas tree! I strangled it in lights, swathed it in tinsel and sneezed a cacophony of derelict Santa’s into the general direction of the wirey branches. It looks pretty; better than a 3 year old’s attempts, but I couldn’t surpass a conscientious 8 year old’s efforts.

This is what’s really news-worthy! A real front pager – ‘NJ Puts up with Mum’s Tree’. No….? Not a show-stopper? Not an inkling of spirit and support? For me, there are many reasons why this is amazejingleballs!

To start with, I don’t think I have decorated the Christmas tree in 13 years and never this early in December. As a kid, I was accustomed to bugging Dad about getting a tree until he finally relented several days before Santa was due to turn up. He would grab a saw and head off down the paddock, returning with the saddest looking pine I’d ever seen.

Oh yeah and then there was the year that I was bah humbugging like the Grinch, berating one of my best friends for wanting to put our tree up in November. She copped it big time for wanting to be a happy little Christmas fairy by shedding some early yuletide cheer. So for my unnecessary verbal ejaculations of premature anti-Christmas decorating rants, this is my formal apology. Even Mr T had to tell me to kindly put a stocking in it.

Then there’s the fact that Christmas has changed a lot in recent times. Over the past couple of years it has been peppered with sadness at the loss of loved ones. Once again, this year will be no different; the place settings at the dinner table diminishing. I’ve learnt that I’m not immune to the cruel and twisted face of adversity and to allow myself time to mourn… even if it is with a mouthful of brandy balls.

But despite the personal circumstances and the once green face of the Grinch, I’m feeling relatively at ease this season. So thank you Tree for allowing me to screw you in, spread your branches and make you look nice (so my mum says**). You have reinstated my faith in the miracle of the Christmas spirit. Ooooooh…. Christmas spirits – hello brandy!

*13 year old me just said that the word erected, will always be amusing.

** I may have twisted the truth here… Mum didn’t actually say that the Christmas tree ‘looked nice’. I’m being optimistic and living in hope that I don’t need to get pregnant and have a baby before Christmas just so I can say the new born decorated it. Totally changing my name to Mary.

About stuffnjsays

I'm NJ, and my life motto is to maintain happiness and be true to myself. I love to write, travel, laugh out loud, and be awesome! I believe in making my dreams come true, and using my life experiences to help other people. Check out what I'm up to, here: stuffnjsays.com
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2 Responses to How Decorating the Christmas Tree Cured my Inner Grinch

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