My friend Kayleigh came over last night to help put up all three of my Christmas decorations and drink hot cocoa. 'Tis the season.
So I'm sitting in the front room waiting for her to get there and stealing the Santa-hats from these hideous dollarstore snowmen I bought when I worked in daycare, and Joel comes in all, What are you cackling about in here? And I'm all, Hee hee hee I put hats on the ducks.
Adorablemente, and you know it.
And then Kayleigh arrived and we set up the teeny tree (with the huge balls [hee])
and the teeny nativity set from my mom
and swapped out the current rotating-couch-quilt with the specifically-Christmas-themed-couch-quilt.
All of our decorations are still teeny (except the balls [hee]) even though we live in a very house-sized house, because this will be our last Christmas in this house-sized house and many of our future houses will be teeny-house-sized.
Speaking of Santa hats (we were earlier, right?) I have hit two dollar stores looking for a smallish Santa hat for Sam Skellington (and also perhaps a beard) but no dice. Diceless, these trips have been. I am exactly one dollar store away from buying some felt and making my own damned hat. How am I not able to find a smallish-but-not-teeny hat? If Sam were capable of looking depressed, he would.
Aw, he doesn't have a frown in him. I'll find you a hat yet, skinny man.