I just finished stringing the lights on our Christmas tree. During mine and Andy's first Christmas together, this became my job. It may or may not have had something to do with my nagging him about the way he was getting it done. Seriously though...the guy was just shoving the lights on the branches in a very haphazard and gap creating fashion. What woman wouldn't nag make kind and appropriate suggestions about how to do it better?
Well, it was only a matter of a precious few moments before he kindly and appropriately suggested just what I could do with the lights. Hence, light stringing = my job. Whatever. It gets done the way I like.
I feel like a photo is in order, but I'm too lazy to make that happen right now. Not to mention, it's not completely decorated yet. So maybe when that's done I'll slap one up here. Not unlike the way my dear, sweet husband used to slap the lights on the tree.
In other news, we've all been attacked by some mutant stomach virus. Well, all but Andy. Thursday I was really wishing for a sick day. Preferably paid. Alas, all I received was a swift kick in the arse in the form of two unruly (more than their usual unruliness) children.
Merry merry.