Christmas cheer...undone

I was trying to gracefully, and without much fanfare or ado, get the Christmas tree out of the apartment before the pine needles took over the living room and drove me to drink more than I already do. In my OCD-induced frenzy, I forgot the impact this could have on my two children, the youngest of whom had just discovered Holiday Spirit.

I had a friend come over and help remove the pendant decorations, and made a valiant effort at removing the silvery, stringy hair things I had carelessly and thoughtlessly hurled at the tree in a fake fit of Christmas Enthusiasm, otherwise known as Holiday Spirit For The Children.

We removed most of the decorations that seem so sweet and simple and anachronistic going up and so hopelessly old-fashioned, annoying and clingy coming down. Boxes of old-school Tree Balls, blinky lights, and homemade pinecone, puppet, and collage decorations. It all came down.

Upon waking the following morning, my boys hopped out of bed as usual, brushed their teeth, and went downstairs to watch television while I dragged myself out of bed in order to feed them before school.

Before I could say Organic Toaster Pastries and Grass-Fed Cows Milk, I heard a blood-curdling screech from downstairs, and flew, two at a time, down the stairs from my bedroom to the living room.

Upon arrival, I found Dash sitting on the sofa, mouth wide and lips starting to turn blue from lack of oxygen as he tried to catch his breath. His arm was extended, his right hand pointed out to his side, index finger aimed straight at the now-naked Christmas tree. In a look I can only describe as accusatory and murderous all at once, my three-year-old fixed his normally-sweet-little-face on my person and asked, in a tone nearly synonymous with the voice of Juliet upon finding her Romeo prone and lifeless, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE CHRISTMAS TREE?!???"

I went and kneeled before him, took his hands in mine, and said, "Oh sweetie, the elves came and took everything away..."

Because I am not going to be the subject of one more therapy appointment.