Christmas in February

That's what we're headed towards, at this rate.
As I type, our Christmas Tree, still fully ornamented, stares at me from the middle of the office. Santa hats still adorn the top of the bookcase. Our nephew/nieces combined (need to come up with a word for that, like Ryan gets to say "cousins") paper-cutout-hand-trace wreath thing hangs on the desk doorknob. Harmonica butt-waving leather-jacket Santa silently mocks me over my shoulder. (Shut up. It was a present to Ryan from one of his playmates -- don't think we'll be seeing much of it next year.)
It's just hard to carve out the time to disennoelize the house. Especially during football playoff season. Dad offered to come over before the Redskins game Saturday to help take down the tree, but that's prime nap time for a good portion of the house. And there were a million other things to take care of in the morning. It's amazing how it all piles up.
Dad did come over to walk the dogs on Sunday, but we instead put him to work helping me set up the log storage rack I got for Christmas, re-attach some downspout add-ons that had fallen off in a recent wind storm, and help Ryan go hammer whatever he wanted in the back yard. We took a curtailed stroll to the park instead, Ainsley and Erin-in-a-sling included.
Ainsley's parents arrived Sunday afternoon, with a gift of a truckbed full of firewood. Fil helped me tear down boxes and clean up the garage, and by then it was time to get ready for dinner. It was all I could do to run out and take down the porch Christmas lights while it was still relatively light out. One little thing at a time.