She bitched, and bitched, and bitched until yesterday, when Mom finally pulled out the box containing the tree.
Instead of going about and decorating the tree like we thought she would, Little Sister decided she was going to sit behind me at the office, until I logged off-line.
Me: Dude, that tree over there's waiting for ya... why don't you let me finish up here and then I'll call you over to get on-line?
LS: I want to get on NOW.
Me: Well, you could easily be helping Mom with the tree while I finish doing what I'm doing...
LS: No! Why am I the only one responsible for fixing the tree?!
Me: Because you've been bitching about it for a week now. I could care less about the tree. I didn't want the tree. I don't need the tree.
LS: So what if I wanted the tree?! Is it so wrong I didn't want this house to look like... some atheist house like you want it to look?!
Me: Oh yeah... because nothing says "I love Jesus" like a tree in the middle of your living room. Pardon me, I forgot.
Sometimes, it's hard for me to believe my sister's a 20-year-old working woman.
The tree is yet to be decorated:
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