How to get your whites really white....and other important stuff
Last Sunday was the big Christmas decoration day in our house. Curtis went and got a beautiful Windsor Pine and the kids and I pulled out our totes of Christmas stuff (a ridiculous number of totes by the way). As the eggnog flowed and the Holiday Tunes blared (yes, we're geeky traditionalists) I found myself uttering oddly familiar warnings, ("If you mess with those ornaments one more time, I'm going to put them all back and we're not having a Christmas tree this year"), and commands, ("The tree is crooked. Move it to the left, no...back....wait, maybe it wasn't crooked."), and in the end, just doing it all myself ("No, you may not play golf with my glass bulbs, put down that club NOW. Go find Dad."). As I pulled my 18 month old out of the tree for 55th time I realized I had made the inevitable transition, I've become my mother. Of course this wasn't the first time this trite realization has reared it's creepy little head.