Or I could just douse the place in Pine Sol

We are not going to discuss the fact that I woke up with a really sore throat this morning. And that Mom gets here tomorrow. And the BIGGEST GAME OF THE YEAR is this Saturday.

Nor will I mention that my friend didn't end up coming to stay last night because he had a rotten cold, and we spent two days with him last week.

Nope. Not gonna talk about it. I prefer denial.

Anyway, moving right along. Last night we finally got Christmas decorations. We went a tad bit crazy at Michaels.

(My favorite is the lit-up polar bear that's on the front lawn. Oh my god seriously...he's the cutest thing you've ever seen. Except perhaps for pissed off cats. But I'll take a picture when we're done setting everything up. You WILL love him.)

But the most difficult decision was that of the tree...real or fake?

When I was younger, we always had a fake tree until the year my brother and I staged a revolt and insisted on real. I have always preferred the pine smell permeating the house. It just feels more Christmasy.

And Mom, I will do you the favor of not having to hear about how you had to supervise every little ornament's placing, for fear of imperfection. And the nervous wrecks my brother and I became over it. OR...of how we finally decorated all by ourselves when you were out of the house one year, AND THERE WAS NOTHING YOU COULD DO ABOUT IT. (I kid, because I LOVE...my newly-relaxed-madre!)

Good times.

So when Emily and I were chatting last week and she told me of her parents' SHOCKING decision to buy a fake tree this year, I felt her indignance. That's just not right!

But then you grow up and have to vacuum the needles yourself. You also have a somewhat neat-freak husband who just may go over the edge with the possibility of pine tar ruining the new carpet. (He didn't even like it when I sat the boxes on the carpet...THEY WERE DUSTY!)

So as we drove to the "real tree lot", we talked about the pros and cons. We stopped off at Michaels first to get lights...and made the mistake of seeing the trees they had. On sale. At low, low bargain prices. Ok, not that low. But discounted at least.

And we broke down and bought one. Emily, you may shame me.

I did protest it at first and kept talking about how I was NOT happy about this. But then we got home and poor Mr. Blogger had to put it together. It's 7 1/2 feet tall and pre-lit, so it was somewhat of a nightmare getting it right. As he lovingly arranged each, individual, single, solitary branch, I told him it didn't have to be perfect!

He looked at me with utter shock and stated, "It HAS to be perfect."

And you wonder why he and my mother get along so well.

But when he was done, at 11:30 at night, it WAS perfect. And beautiful. And HUMONGOUS. We haven't even gotten around to putting the ornaments on it yet.

OK, so it doesn't smell as good, but I'll buy some of those pine-scented tree air-fresheners you hang on your rear view mirror or something. What matters is that MB's happy and there's no mess and my mother will approve.

I'm kidding...sort of.