This morning I was laying in bed, in that half asleep, half awake state, half listening to the early morning radio show that we use as our alarm.
Suddenly, my wife woke up with a start.
"Wha! Oh I just had a horrible dream!" She looked visibly shaken by whatever it was - perhaps the old "being eaten alive by rats" one?
I hugged her, telling her it was OK, just a dream.
"But it was horrible. The tree. You decorated my tree and it was horrible!"
Notice "my tree".
The she went on to describe how I had decorated the tree in her dream. As she talked about the details I mentally ticked off items - yes, yes, yes, ooh that's a good idea, yes, yes...
"So, if I did the tree even remotely like that it would be bad, would it?"
"Well, in my dream I was trying to work out now much I could change it each day without anyone else noticing until I could live with it".
In the discussion that followed we came to the conclusion that I might have to give up my claim on the living room and be happy with the porch and hall - the thought of me doing the tree has clearly traumatised my poor wife!
I will still endeavour to take pictures, though...