I think the tackiest Christmas decorations in the world are currently being strewn about my lovely house.
I love light. Pure, white light, candles glowing in the darkness, a big paper star I got years and years ago when I first moved out from the Hoarder's Treasures, birds, holly, ivy, flowers, pine cones, ribbon, everything lovely and tactile and clean. I loved the little angels that moved around, making tiny bells chime, if you lit candles underneath.
DP is asking me whether the strong of cardboard printed Christmas trees is dangling centrally over the window to frame the hideous gold fold out approximation of my paper star that he's pinned up in the (sort of) centre.
Foul red and gold tinsel is strewn across the TV.
Lights in every colour of the rainbow are glittering in the corner of the living room.
I can hear fucking sleigh bells in the kitchen where the DTwatCat has discovered them dangling from the back door.
He's happily chatting at me about his having ordered some crepe paper to make something else. The Poinsettia (my one concession to colours is bright red, as you get it on Robins and berries) I treated myself to earlier this week is being totally obscured by more plastic foil crap. There is no lametta following my tale of an old cat's sparkly disco poos in the litter tray.
If he brings out the long string of multicoloured lights and dangles it around the walls, or worse, the staircase where I'm planning an Ivy garland, I might have to strangle him with the knackered foil foldy up things he wants to criss cross across the already cluttered ceiling. Especially if he puts them on the fucking random flashing sequence like he did last year.
Twat. No taste Twat.
It's making him happy. So another year of tack. And maybe one day I'll get to decorate without it. But I wouldn't want to be decorating without him, so that's how it's going to be.
AIBU to consider wearing sunglasses indoors for the next 3 weeks?