"AUAAATSCH - AAAAAAARG!"
I got off the ladder like a beaten dog. Damn it - my thumb was purple - knock it up again and it would be flatter than a flunda. In frustration, I combed my beautifully manicured fingernails through my tangled hair. My cheeks must have been more than rosy, and if that effort cost me anywhere near as many calories as it cost me nerves, I must be a few pounds lighter now. On this occasion, my sweat glands were completely selfless and had contributed to the fact that my clothes were clammy, my hair stuck to my forehead on my face and I generally felt like I was on hot coals.
"What am I doing this again for ?!"
Because I wanted to follow in Mother Therese's footsteps? Yes exactly. That was only half the story - maybe a little less than that. The truth was ridiculously unoriginal and embarrassingly unspectacular. I did not dare to admit to myself that I was very wrong.
"OKAY! I'LL THROW THE TOWEL - DAMN IT!"
I disliked my base motive for the now bleeding finger. I learn from mistakes, so I keep making new ones. For this reason I picked up the hammer again, tripped up the ladder and at least didn't want to try the crooked decoration[! ]to look like a cheap copy of the 'Leaning Tower of Pisa'. But nothing helped. Neither my pleading and pleading to any retired Christmas elf - I didn't even want to begin with the generally very leisurely reindeer - nor my excessive desire to suddenly and improbably discover my dexterity and the talent for tinkering for myself. Stupidity sends its regards - intelligence is enjoying itself with its blasphemer, reason, in the Bahamas with an umbrella cocktail, sunbathing and lots of well-built and with golden brown tanned and sun milk soft skin of an estimated thousand surfer boys. Oh, I'd love to be a millionaire.
"Should I help you?"
"NOEEEIIIN!", I nagged a little ladylike from my high horse and was promptly punished for it. Together with the ladder - waving my arms wildly - the stupid law of gravity thwarted my calculations. That was the end of decorative communal feeling at the blissful Christmas season.

MY blasphemy sister with atypically soft facial features and sugar-sweet baby dimple smile was just laughing at her outrageously well-proportioned thighs. She made fun of me - ME! "I wanted to help you, Tsunade ...", she continued without a point or comma, without stopping in front of MY lost honor, "but no! You wanted to know better - as if the job of the housekeeper were open to you tailored to the body ... "
Yirayah took another vanilla biscuit and grinned broadly from ear to ear. "That's how she is, our dear Tsunade - striving like no other and willing to solve the problem in her own way - of course always with the willingness to take risks selflessly to take on the damage ..."I grumbled to myself. "Shut up and pour me more! What my broken ribs need now is pure sake - the finest sake, you understand?"
Kakashi behind his mask could no longer hold back a low laugh.
"Well at least it didn't hit the liver ..." Gai fell into the village with the church.
I groaned. "I think one day she will run away secretly - without a slip of paper or anything - because you are simply an imposition, a lifelong punishment ..."
Clouds of smoke rose from Asuma's half-smoked glow stick. "You really can't be helped, Tsunade ..." he commented soberly.
Kurenai smiled benevolently at me.
Strangely enough, Anko had pulled himself out of the affair and was instead dogged by the Mau-Mau game with Iruka and Genma. Something in her eyes told me that the card game was everything else, but not a mean Mau-Mau.
I had to smile at the thought that they could play poker. Then I took the glass of sake that Shizune handed me and slipped peacefully to sleep. Christmas could come from me ... with liver or without ribs ...