It doesn't feel like Christmas in my home until we decorate the Christmas tree. I LOVE decorating the tree.
Each year, I make the children (and an unwilling husband who thankfully humors me) gather around the living room with ALL of the boxes of Christmas stuff and I happily reign as Queen -- Queen of All Things Christmas Ornamental. I challenge anyone in the family who dares to cast a crabby glance. I willfully inflict my "Christmas spirit" upon them. Sometimes that "spirit" is lovingly referred to as Sybil by my adoring peasants [er, rather family], but whatever... We play Christmas carols cheerily in the background. I bark (politely) orders about whether to hang an ornament higher or lower, a bit more to the left or the right. I insist that there IS more room on the tree when I hear complaints about there being no room. I escalate my Christmas joyfulness and festive intensity when I hear whining that someone is exhausted by the Ornament Marathon.
Sounds enjoyable, right? Right? RIGHT?!?!