For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home.

I almost spelled that title "you can't beet home sweat home." Do beets sweat? Do vegetables perspire?
Also, how hard is it to create a Christmas playlist that excludes Mariah Carey? Huh, Pandora?
Finally, The proof is in the pudding. What proof? What pudding? What murder mystery was solved when the inspector, addressing a dining room full of dinner guests, pulled out his magnifying glass and declared, "Aha! The proof is in the pudding!" and then pulled a bloody dagger from a trifle?

In the name of practicality, we at the Walter residence are forgoing Christmas decor this year. It makes sense since we're here for just another week before heading West once again. Stephen is more than ok with it since he likes Christmas about as much as he likes sweaty beets. Ollie hasn't said anything about our apparent lack of holiday cheer. I promised Ivy we'd have a tree next year, and she seems cool with it. Really, it's just me that's wrestling with our grinchiness. Last week at Target I put the same wreath in my cart then removed it three separate times. Ultimately I bought four baby onsesies instead of a wreath, but I may go back.Unless you validate my practicality, Internet. Guide me.

Fun fact, I had to google the spelling of the following words for this post:
beat
beet
sweet
sweat
forgo
separate
wrestle
wreath

School, you failed me.