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"All I want for Christmas is youuuuuuu!" Emma sang - quite passionately I might add - as she put on a ornament.
"Mom, you're embarrassing. Stop singing." Henry sighed, blocking his face.
"Just..let her have fun, kid," Neal said quietly. "If you don't, bad things happen. Learned that the hard way."
"So, you're suggesting that I let her be high on Christmas spirt all month? Nobody to stop her?"
"I mean..." Neal trailed off. "If you wanna try to stop her;be my guest. I've tried too many times, and it never ends good. She loves Christmas, kid, it's like a cruse."
Henry nodded. "I'll just play along," he whispered, and stood up and hesitantly sang with her as they put up decorations onto the tree.
"Em, Hon, I'm changing it to Michael Bublé, the Christmas God," Neal warned her, as he changed the Spotify to play one of his Christmas albums.
"Michael bubble," Emma 'corrected', referencing to an inside joke they've had. "And yes. Christmas. Freaking. God."
Neal let out a snort as 'it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas' started to blare out of the speakers.
Despite Emma's over festive-ness mess, it all ended in good times and laughs. Only one ornament broke, and everyone ended in great moods, not even wanting to finish. They didn't wanna take off the Santa hats Emma made them wear and stop screaming the words to the classic Christmas songs. How shocking that is.
"I think this is gonna be a good Christmas." For once, those words went uttered by Emma, but by Henry, as they turned on the lights that were wrapped around the tree nicely.