To the tree!









The tree, the suddenly-appearing source of shiny doodads to thrust into my mouth:




This ceramic apple will be a great fit:





You think you know what I'm doing, but you don't:




Surprise!  It's the whole chain, not simply the apple.




















You've yet to confiscate this decorative choking hazard:















Well, it's late, and I'm taking this with me:




Dash away, dash away.





On to nestle all snug in my bed and lie in wait for St.Nick  . . . .  Merry Christmas!