With some delay we too made the commitment to decorate the Christmas tree. Traditionally, the tree is in the garden, a small fir tree that was 12 years ago now has about 3 meters. By a strange unwritten rule, the task falls to me: other family members deliberately ignore all this, except to wait every morning from 8 December onwards for the appearance of the tree all decked out in point, as if this 'do you generate on its own, perhaps through the work of industrious elves workers at night. The Trip says it's time to rebel:
T: But you saw in the freezing cold to attack mismatched balls, mostly missing regulatory hook, which will fall on his head just made? Are you the portrait of the exploited labor force. It 's time that the masses become aware of the degradation and go back on its feet.
E: But what the masses? if you have not noticed I'm out here alone. And do not ever throw in politics, prepare the Christmas tree has its own poetry.
T: -4 degrees with a poetic could be just the mulled wine. By the way, the last time you put a few cloves, was a bit poor ..
E: I will do this. Anything else wrong?
T: I was just checking your work: the balls at the top are crumbling, the scallops are a bit mangy, intermittency of light bulbs not working well, the tip like every year is wrong.
E: .. do not ever give me satisfaction
T: I constructive criticism, you should thank me. I already told you with those mitts look like the Little Match Girl?
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