Naked George
We woke up early for us and went out to find a Christmas tree. We went to this LOVELY U-Cut place that all trees where one (bargain) price. Since this is only our second year in the house we are still getting this whole "buying a house-sized tree" thing down. The one we bought was on a hill so I swear it looked taller.
OK we bought a Christmas bush. It is very fat and not that tall but oh it smells so nummy. But it is totally a bush.
And now some pervert is going to find this site when he really looking for pussy hair groomed into Christmas shapes.
Damn.
Hi Pervert!
So we buy the bush (hee!) and I notice that other trees on the lot have name tags. They say things like "Hi I am Genevieve. I am from Bangor, Maine and like to sit in cold and damp places." It has never occured to me to name my tree.
J does not like this idea. Mainly because he is imagining the fight we will have in January when he wants to throw Margaret out.
He should not worry. I didn't name our little bush Margaret. I named him George. And he is a TREE. So no worried J, I will not get attached at all.
We also had the funniest exchange when we got to the lot. We drove in and they have you drive to this little information hut and then off into where the trees are. At the little info hut they give you a map which J immediately handed to me and a saw.
A: (looking intently at the map): OOOOH! We can get a tree from anywhere on this lot for one price!! Wait, are we going the right way?
J: Honey
A: (still looking at the map, not paying attention at ALL): Oh it looks like you can get any kind you want, remember last year how each type was a different price and we kept holding up the pictures trying to decide what type we had like we were goddamn botanists?
J: HONEY
J: (still trying to drive while holding the saw) COULD YOU TAKE THE FUCKING SAW PLEASE!?!?!
A: (eating popcorn that the info gal gave us and still looking at the map) HMMM?
A: (finally noticing J) OH honey, did you want me to take the saw so you could drive?
The best part was if you looked into the other cars, every damn couple was having this conversation. Every single one.
So we came back and J went outside to do his manly battle with the outside lights. I am always sure that he will fall off the ladder and die so I am not invited. It's a good thing too because I did not have to witness his unmanly problems with the staple gun. I did however hear his manly solution to the problem--calling it a motherfucker and throwing it across the garage.
Instead I cleaned the upstairs. Bleached both bathrooms (ruined my black t-shirt because I am a moron and wore a black t-shirt to bleach bathrooms), cleaned out J's dresser, did all the laundry, changed the sheets, scrubbed floors, etc.
Then we tried to bring George inside. OK George is fatter than I thought. He didn't fit in the first spot we chose, or the second. So we had to move both couches and the video cabinet and put him in front of the window. Where he barely shows from the outside because he is short.
Seriously, we are ridiculous. Because we moved the furniture have a dozen times and basically have the spacial relations skill of white out. SAD.
George is still nude because I didn't have the energy to decorate him last night. Maybe tonight, because honestly, I don't think I should have him mooning the neighborhood.
