We packed Christmas away today, much to the chagrin of the resident 3-year-old. He kept asking why he had to do this, why we couldn't just leave everything the way it was.
Well, we told him repeatedly, Christmas is all done. Then we reassured him -- repeatedly -- that it really will come back again one day.
The fact is, I hate to pack in Christmas, too. Keeping the tree up until the sixth of January is a long-time tradition in my family. This year we managed to stretch that tradition a few days longer, wrapping up the holidays with a family turkey dinner last night.
As I look around at my living room and dining room, now devoid of Christmas decorations, I ask myself: Now what?
January, that's what.
Time to burrow in for some serious weeding out, shaping up, catching up ... and then there are all those tax forms to contend with.
Oh, hell, I know why we keep our Christmas tree and lights and other decorations up so long: The longer the place looks festive, the less it feels as if it's just January.
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