Thursday, November 24

48. (IT GO'N RAIN.)

At my parents', where we celebrate Christmas every year, the tree is silver with pink-and-white lights.

When my mom said they were going to use that one, I just stared at her and protested, "No."

It didn't phase her. So now, on Christmas morning, I get to open presents with a brightly shining metal monstrosity with vividly pink lights.

Lovely.

(Yes, I'm whining about it. Shush.)