Christmas. Really?

I usually have my Christmas Tree up by Halloween.  I’m a little late this year.  Now, don’t go getting me confused with the Martha Stewart moms.  I’m far from it.  I live in an ugly house, I have ugly furniture, and I don’t even own a duster.  What does that tell you?


I was mulling over the fact that we now have this five foot moose in place of where my Christmas tree usually sits.  When I was vocalizing my concerns, Cale comes up with a solution.  So this year, traditions are out the window. 

Along with the tree.

Shopping with Cale

Cale, my 8 year old middle child with the appropriate syndrome, spots a five foot tall stuffed moose at a thrift store. Why a thrift store in Texas would carry something with absolutely zero thriftiness to it beats me. Regardless, it was love at first site. And guess what? Moose only cost $15, which is EXACTLY the amount of money Cale had.

I had previously been attempting to instill work ethic into my boys, teaching them how to make money through chores. What kind of lesson would it have been to tell him he couldn’t have the moose? It was, after all, his money.
So, a few failed attempts at reverse psychology later….I end up trying to shove a five foot moose into the backseat. Unfortunately, it fit.