Decorating the tree is always much anticipated in the Benson household. Opening up the Christmas Box and unravelling the lights, unwrapping the baubles and uncovering all the forgotten books and other Christmassy bits and bobs is part of the magic of Christmas.
In my imaginary world of perfect parenting Frog and Rowdy dance around delicately and joyfully, carefully and precisely adorning the tree with each decoration, creating a symmetrical, sparkling vision of festivity.
The reality, of course, is different. I spend most of the time sweeping up broken glass baubles, shouting at the kids to put their slippers on and trying to pry the chocolate decorations out of their hot, sticky hands before they both end up in a completely demented sugar rush. Both children end up crying. The tree itself ends up totally lop-sided with the decorations hung on only two of its many branches and our angel looks as though she's hung herself.
But that moment when we've finished and we're all snuggled up on the sofa with Rowdy silenced into a hypnotic trance by the twinkly lights that's awesome!
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