The most depressing time of the year....

I hate putting away Christmas. I hate it. It just stinks. This year, though, marked a milestone - the Santas this time didn't get lugged back to the basement of Sterchi. This year, they went to DJ Smith's house where they are under his stewardship. I'll open them in November of 2016 in OUR house.

Yea. That's exciting!

Here's a shortened version of how Saturday's packing up of all of Christmas went:

Me: Oh, Benny, don't pack regular Christmas stuff in the Santa box. Put it in the regular Christmas stuff box.

DJ Smith, pausing mid-wrap: I already packed some regular Christmas stuff in here.

Me: That's ok. I'll get it when I open the Santa boxes first next year and put it in the regular Christmas box. But don't pack any more in that box. Use the regular Christmas stuff box.

Roomstress: I packed some regular Christmas stuff in the Spode box too. Is that ok?

Me: Yes, that's fine, but did you find my flat Santa box in the Spode box when you opened it?

Roomstress: Flat... Santa?

Me: Benny, that's a flat Santa! Give him here - don't pack him in the Santa box, I have to put him in my flat Santa box.

Benny: What the hell are you talking about?

Me: IT'S FLAT. They all go together. There's a box from JC Penny's that they go in.

Roomstress: I.... no. I didn't find a flat Santa box.

Me: I'm going to need a box for them. OR A FOLDER. Do you have a folder? A folder would be perfect.

Benny: I need another box to start packing in.

Me: DON'T USE THAT BOX. It's a Santa box. Only Santas go in the Santa box.

Ad infinity.

All I've got for today. Over and out.