Quid Pro Quo

I have to put up with a lot.
And never more so than in the run up to Christmas.
Even the kindly Mister participates in this ritual, so I have to let it slide.

They decorate the tree, and bicker about the lights and where the cardboard that was not needed this year to keep the tree upright should be put in order to be easily found in 2018.
(I'm with the Mister: just chuck it under a dining room chair.  The Wretched One preferred to store it in the christmas tree light bag I've put this in bold and underlined it because they have a £10 bet:  the Mrs says she will remember just where it is next year, and the Mr says she won't).  FGSake, they are quibbling about a piece of cardboard that's no more than an a bit of spare packaging!

I get the fun of watching this woeful domestic spectacle in return for merely putting on a headband, being bribed with several sausages, and letting the Wretched One take my picture.

I'm the winner!