It’s December 3rd, and I’ve officially put up five Christmas trees. That’s right—five. Do I enjoy it? Absolutely not. Picture Scrooge tangled in tinsel, muttering under his breath about “holiday spirit.” That’s me.
Now, technically, I didn’t need to put up three trees in my own home. But one of them is tiny and takes about 30 minutes to put up, so it doesn’t really count… right? Honestly, I should just keep that one and banish the others. But no, I’ve got two 9-foot and two 10-foot behemoths demanding my attention, because apparently, I hate free time.
And it's not as if they stay up all year or even 2 months! Nope, a few short weeks of twinkly glory, and then the looming responsibility of packing them back up until next year. It’s like having an overly demanding houseguest who leaves glitter in every corner.
Anyway, if I’m going to suffer through this, my trees are going to be packed with stuff. No delicate hanging ornaments here—oh no. I stuff them to the brim, like they’re auditioning to be the world’s most over-the-top parade float.
Five trees, too much stuffing, and questionable life choices. Merry Christmas, I guess! 🎄
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