'Cause i fucking hate it. I dread it every year, going up to the freezing, mouldy, cluttered attic and dragging all the boxes down the ladders, trying to avoid children excitedly hopping about underneath me, spilling baubles and tinsel and shitty bits of glittery tat everywhere. Getting it all downstairs, shutting the cat and dog in the back hall so they dont start eating things or chasing baubles under the sofa, keeping the dcs from entangling each other in lights that probably wont work and after all that finding one of the feet of the xmas tree missing so i cant put the fucker up anyway meaning the dcs are gutted and have gone to bed angry with me. I hate it.
I would love to just come home from work on dec 1st and it all be done for me