Christmas Tree Hell

Have you ever heard the phrase ‘like a red rag to a bull’? Well that’s exactly what a Christmas tree is to a 2-year-old.

Thing 3 has been on a permanent high ever since we fished out our fake snow-covered tree. I have to admit that she already had feral tendencies but now that the Christmas tree has been erected (can’t help but giggle at that word, no I haven’t quite grown up yet) the feralness has turned up several notches.

Not only do we have frigging fake snow all over the floor (whose genius idea was it to get a snowy tree anyway?) but we also have baubles and beads flying in all directions. It’s not much fun standing on a sparkly star let me tell you. Honestly who actually thinks it’s sensible to make a tree decoration as sharp as a pissing scalpel? But then who actually thinks it’s sensible to buy the sodding things? Oh yes, apparently at some point I thought all of the above things were a good idea. *Rolls eyes*

So anyway, it’s been up one day and I already want to throw it out the chuffing window!

I can’t even remember how many times I’ve threatened to take it down or told her that Santa won’t bring her presents if she keeps being a little bugger (obviously I said pickle instead of bugger but I was bloody well thinking the other word).

I’ve even made a deal with her – “you can play with the baubles as long as you put them back on the tree when you’re finished”. I think that’s massively reasonable of me. I know that my tree is gonna look like shit by Christmas Day but if she could please pick up after herself then I’m perfectly ok with it. Job done, or not. I may as well talk to a brick wall.

It’s gonna be a long December!