I Wonder Where She Gets It.

I'm sorry, did someone say "decorations?"

We finally took down our tree and Christmas decorations this past weekend. I agree, it is on the later end of the whole Removal Of Holiday Stuff spectrum, but- as Peej pointed out- it was the Epiphany this weekend, the actual end of the Christmas season.

Which is totally why we kept them up this long.

Totally.

Also, last week, a pillar of the community helped him/herself to a few of our gate lights and at least one red bow. Fa la la la la.

So we wrapped and bundled and dragged...and will be living with pine needle remnants until next August. (They should build homes outta the stuff- there is no more stubborn material in the universe.)

And there's nothing like taking down festive decorations to remind you just how inept and unaware you truly are. Like when you believe you're finished with the packing up and then happen to spy a giant red, glittery reindeer right at eye level. (Does that count as Christmas stuff? Yes, Keely decided, I think it does.)

Even though Nora had said goodbye to the tree right before her nap, she still burst into the living room like the Family Guy monkey and pointed accusingly at where the tree had previously resided. And Was. Not. Happy. I finally convinced her that Santa needed our old tree at the North Pole. She grudgingly admitted that this was probably the case.

So what does one do with a newly (kinda) cleaned living room, devoid of all the hulking holiday accouterments? Why, we put up the royal play tent in all of its primary-colored goodness. And, at the time of this posting, it is chock full of items that normally reside in every single other room, excepting this one. (Books, baby cups, stuffed animals, copies of The Economist, and at least one cat. We've got a miniature Hoarders situation going on.)

It's a nice thing to see right by the front door.

Sure, Nora and Zuzu each have their own rooms and a playroom large enough to house Camelot itself...but nope. This proves that a) one can never be too classy, and b) P.J. and I are both eight year-olds if we see nothing amiss in keeping a nylon tent in the front living room.

Come play sometime- you can't miss us. We've got giant snowman gel clings on the front window...

...and a trail of pine needles down the block.