You see, it's the best of times putting up all of those Christmas decorations ... but it's the worst of times taking them down.

Ah, Christmas. For our family, it starts not long after Thanksgiving when together we make the announcement, "It's time to bring Christmas into the house."

No matter how many times I do it, there's still something magical and exciting about hauling in those boxes of Christmas treasures.

And no matter how old the kids get to be, they don't have to be asked twice to help—they clamor out to the garage to help bring in another Christmas.

Taking Christmas out of the house? Well, that's a different story.

The kids? Oh, yeah, they're a big help.

"Uh, the Christmas stuff?" stammered the oldest with all the sincerity of Eddie Haskell. "You know, I'd really love to help, Dad, but I've got to clean my room."

"Your room!" I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "You haven't cleaned your room since it was condemned by the health department last summer!"

And the college kid?

"Sure, Dad," he said, "but I've got some studying to do first."

"Nice try, son," I said. "But you have no classes ... you're on semester break!"

"Well, sure," he said indignantly. "But you've obviously forgotten how tough college is! I've got to start studying now for next semester!"

Well, they hung around long enough to take down an ornament or two, but then the phone rang. It was like the starting bell at the dog races, and they were off like two greyhounds up the stairs (yeah, like they couldn't grab the cordless in the kitchen).

I never saw them again.

It was a perfect end to another Christmas season that went from Rockwell to Orwell, all in the span of three weeks.

Of course, it all starts with the tree.

Now there's a tradition I've never really understood. We pick out a tree, drag it into the living room, let it die ... then plug it in to a live wall socket spitting out 110 volts of crackling, sparking electricity.

But we do it in spite of the danger. How can we resist—the intoxicating smell of pine ... the soft, pliable branches ... the plush, green color ...

Yeah, when you put it up. Taking it down is another story.

Snatch an ornament off the tree and 8,000 dead needles dive to the carpet below. And I have to reach in for the trunk to carry it outside? I'd sooner stick my arm into the piranha-infested waters of the Amazon! Oh, it may be dead, but it's still a pine ... a porcupine!

Of course, decorating the tree is the warm and fuzzy part of Christmas, especially breaking into that old box of ornaments. Because when you put the ornaments on the tree, each one tells a story of its own. Taking ornaments down, however, is neither warm nor fuzzy. It's the stark reality that the holidays are actually over, and they tell just one cold, collective story: we've got way too many ornaments!

Of course, my job has always been the lights. And for a very good reason—'cause they're not even fun to put up!

Still, there's a certain art to it. You must wind each strand carefully, being sure to spread the bulbs evenly about the tree. One strand, then the next ... until 10 strings of lights wrap around and illuminate the great pine.

Taking the lights down is actually easier ... easier, that is, until the 10 strands knot to form one giant tangled web of twinkles. Geez, if I could have tied knots like that when I was a kid, I'd have won a Boy Scout merit badge ... had I been a Boy Scout.

But, at long last, the worst of times is over. The Christmas boxes are packed away for their long, winter's nap (not to mention spring, summer and fall).

Well, the holidays will soon be over, and so will winter break. So after sleeping in and vegging out for two very, very long weeks while I had to go to work every day, the kids have to get up early and go back to school.

And that will truly be the best of times for me!

Want to talk? Call me at 408.354.3110, ext. 31, or drop me a note at dsparrer@svcn.com.