There should be a hormone in your body that reminds you every year after Thanksgiving that you DO NOT want to screw with the Christmas tree, the million ornaments you inherited when you got married or the freaking part of the tree that doesn't light up because of a burned out bulb. But nope, on schedule every freakin year you get all excited, put on Christmas music, break out the egg nog and get all festive. Three hours later, you and your spouse are no longer speaking, your kids are bawling, and you have said F it to the egg nog and now are just slamming Bud Light as fast as you can.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Can't wait to do this 50 more years!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Can't wait to do this 50 more years!
Poor Ivy was in bed by the time we finished so she will have to be in a picture tomorrow...
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