“I want to put up our Christmas decorations right away!” blurted Shef from the backseat on the way home from dinner.

“We’ll do it on December 1st,” I said. Dan snickered a little, presumably since the earliest we’ve decorated for the holiday in our life together is maybe December 20th. We’re usually the last ones at the tree lot, perusing the picked-over selection of Charlie Brown offerings. “Well,” I explained, “we have the advent calendar this year. Plus he’s really into it.”

And he is. I’ve already exhumed the Santa Bear from the basement.

“Fine,” Dan conceded. “Just don’t even say anything about a F-A-K-E T-R-E-E.”

“W-H-Y?” I asked. I always had an artificial tree growing up, and I never felt deprived. I’ve often suggested we get one, only to subject myself to much ridicule and exasperation from my loving lifemate.

Dan predictably rolled his eyes. “Because then why don’t you just P-I-S-S on C-H-R-I-S-T,” he spat.

And so, oh-kay, it appears we’ll be watering copiously and vacuuming up nettles again this year.