I am a perfectionist. I have always been one. But when I had kids, I felt I can’t really force my obsessions on to them. Not that I haven’t tried !!! But I make a conscious effort not to be overtly perfectionist..

Last year my kids decided to decorate the Christmas tree while I was at work and when I got back home, I was greeted by the sight of a tree that surely was  suffering from anorexia nervosa ( eating disorder). The  branches were scraggy  and there was an explosion of baubles all over in no particular order that made my tree look as if it is suffering from a serious case of illness. This was an expensive Christmas tree bought when we were in Canada with realistic looking branches. It would look realistic if someone cared enough to open the branches. But my kids didn’t bother to do that.

I was tempted to fix it.. I actually waited for them to go to bed, so I could undo their handiwork and fix my tree. I sipped a glass of wine while trying to figure out how best to do it at the same time not to hurt my children’s feelings..

It was all or none..I either had to leave it as it is or take all the decorations out and fix each branch and then decorate it again. Then a little voice said in my head, it is just a Christmas tree and who cares if it is perfect.. ( must have been the wine!)

Reluctantly I left it..

On Monday, my kids decorated the tree again..and my youngest was waiting for me at the door to show me the surprise.

The branches looked nice, like how it should look..and I don’t know why I said ” baby girl, the tree looks much better than last year. You did a better job than your siblings!”

It turns out that last year it was my baby girl who assembled the tree and this year her brother did it.

Yes, I am known to put my foot in my mouth very often.