#4 My Mother Won't Let Me Decorate A Christmas Tree

#4 My Mother Won't Let Me Decorate A Christmas Tree

A Chapter by tynamite

So today it’s the Christmas season, and it’s time to get festive. Right now there are scented candles on and it’s getting all warm and toasty, but that’s not enough to keep me from being happy today.


Today I nearly slipped down the stairs because my brother hadn’t dried his hands so when I walked down the banister I nearly slipped and fell down the stairs. His job was to decorate the stairs by putting tinsel on it. He should of put it on the top plank of wood instead of the second, third and forth ones.


Thankfully he’s not going to be the one decorating the Christmas tree. My mother is going to do it, so I’d rather it be her than him. I’ve had enough stupid antics from him to last me a lifetime.


While he was busy using some tinsel and leaves to decorate the staircase banister. I was busy “helping” my mother decorate the Christmas tree. Christmas is a special time in the house, even if it is full of stupid people. So it’s only fair that I do my bit with the others, and hope that nobody wrecks it up.


My mother had just got a tree standing up, and she was ready to decorate it. There was a box of decorations, and I saw some fake candy canes. I wanted to put them onto the tree.  “Can I put those candy canes on the tree?” I asked. She replied,  “Can you make the Christmas tree look attractive?” I replied yes, and then she replied, “So you can do this all by yourself and put the angel on top?” I looked at the top, and it was very high. My mother looked at me with a stupid face, and I replied, “Yes I can Mum. Now let me put the candy canes on the tree.” They had red and white stripes. My mother told me to put a burbal where she asked me to. She was arranging them in zig zags. She took a plastic King David out the cardboard box, and started arranging it below one of the burbals, each of them hung by a hook, no I mean a rook.


The tree was getting more full, and the candy canes lay in the box. It was infuriating. I later saw her take out a queen, whatever her name is, and put it at the left of the king. What kind of a thing is this? A chess game? I’ve played chess, and it’s bloody nuts. I can’t be playing a game of chess on the run up to Christmas. I’d rather play Frustration. It’s a long game, but at least I’ll be playing a real game. I hate this! Why is my mother trying to make everything into a game. I had had enough. I was going to put the candy canes on the tree, and nobody was going to stop me. But when I did, a burbal fell off its hook onto the floor. Mum asked me to pick it up. Just then my brother walked in.


“Did anyone say Bourbons?” he asked. I dashed the burbal in his face. He dropped on the floor like a bowling pin. “How dare you.” said my mother. I heard her say “You’re putting up one of the pawns.” I looked at him and I saw that a red corn he had on his face got even redder. “I’m bleeding now” said my brother. “I’m carrying thorns!” I looked at him again, and he was carrying roses. He was going to decorate the house for Christmas with roses. Roses. I hope Kimberly doesn’t ask to come to this house again. That would be a shambles.


“What are you doing with the roses?” I asked my brother.  “It’s to spread the festive love, no joy.” he said. “It’s for the merriment of Christmas.” My mother looked at him and she had the most happy look on her face. “Aaah, the merriment of Christmas” she said. “It’s nice to know that someone here has the festive spirit.” I turned to look back at my brother, and he walked towards me in a creepy way. I got uncomfortable and moved back a bit.

You could never guess what he did when he got close to me. He gave me a rose. “It’s for you” he said. I looked at him, and then I looked at my mother, scornful of the rose. “Haven’t you done enough harming innocent people for one day?” she said. I looked at my brother, and he was nodding his head. I’m living in a house of stuppy drones.


“Have you got any Bourbons?” he asked. I said no, and that was the end of that. He left the living room to carry on decorating the stairs.


Now it was time to get down to business. The Christmas tree.  I’m going to put the candy canes on the tree, and I’m not messing about. Remember that, trust me.


So, I asked my mother if I could put some candy canes on the Christmas tree, and she said no. Well she said, “Not until you put the burbal back you threw at your brother, don’t you think?” I looked at my mother in disgust. I went to go to get the burbal, and I saw my brother. He asked me if there were any Bourbans. “No”, I replied sarcastically in high pitch. “But if you write that you want some on your Christmas list, Santa just might give you a whole big box of them for Christmas, all to yourself, under the Christmas tree. Won’t you like that?”


I finally had put the burbal back on the Christmas tree where it was. Now it was time for me to get the candy canes sorted. I just put them on where I wanted, and wherever I put them, they were shadowed by the other pieces.  “Checkmate” my Mum said. “Perfect”, I said looking at the tree. I loved looking at the candy canes. My brother walked into the room with his rose, and placed it on top of the tree. “Now, it’s perfect”, he said.

© 2012 tynamite

Author's Note

I've done something different with this chapter.
Usually the main character would moan about the stupid actions of the brother. In this chapter, it hasn't happened. I wanted to go for a different approach, and focus more on the mother than the brother. I like to challenge myself and not get complacent with my skills, so that I can improve, because there are certain things I can't write.

If this chapter has disappointed you for not being funny, let me know. Don't hold back. The next chapter will be all about the sister, a new character.

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This chapter is a scream! I was laughing all the way through! Loved it!

Posted 13 Years Ago

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Added on January 3, 2011
Last Updated on July 5, 2012
Tags: christmas, tree, decorate, decoration, funny



Birmingham, England, United Kingdom

Hello peepz! I write novels and short stories in the "urban life" genre going for the "thought provoking" style. You could call it realism, but even romance and crime novels can be realistic, so I.. more..