Ha ha! We're pretending that we cut down our own tree! Dude, we didn't even strap that shit to our own car. That's what college kids who make $6/hour plus tips are for.
The best part of this picture is that Dash didn't know what I was doing & I didn't know what Josh was doing until after we looked at the pictures later that night.
Josh & Erick are tuff!
OK, maybe slightly less tuff than I thought. As an aside, how sad are you that you're not married to Josh Engel? Seriously. I'll bet you're pretty sad.
Hi tree! Have fun fending off two fat kittens for the next four weeks! Also, there's the "be good" sign again! It's like Dash's personal signal to start behaving as badly as possible, just to see how much he can get away with.
While Josh was putting up the finishing touches, Dash & Erick started playing the most disgusting game of Memory ever. Whenever a player got a match, the other player had to eat an Every Flavored Bean. Flavors included centipede, baby wipes, toothpaste, vomit & cat food.
The annual gingerbread house.
Crazy lady Christmas village. K-JOY (radio station, top right) stopped working. I think that entitles me to a new building. Josh disagrees.
Token Jewy thing.
So this is new. About 87 times a day Dash hunches over slightly, puckers his lips a bit, opens his eyes wide & asks, "am I cute, Mama?" And then I beat him to within an inch of his life because yes, Dash, you are cute. You are cute as fuck.
Yep. Still cute.