It’s just a few days before Christmas, and my tree still isn’t decorated. Although I did finally manage to get it inside the house last night.
For some reason, the three men in the house ganged up on me this year and decided they wanted an artificial Christmas tree.
Now I have never been one to do any Christmas decorating, but I do love a Christmas tree. I get seriously excited unpacking the old ornaments and remembering where each one came from. And those of you who know me are aware that I am completely motivated by my nose. That tree is what Christmas smells like, and I love Chri-mah.
But since I was completely outnumbered, instead of just demanding we stick with tradition, I took a few days and thought about it seriously. And I decided I’d rather have no tree at all than have an artificial one. Isn’t part of the whole Christmas tree thing bringing something green and alive in from outside to brighten your house in the dead of winter? During this period of intense self-reflection, I also came to realize something central about myself: I have some sort of deep-rooted (punny!) issues with fake plants, of any sort. It could take years of expensive therapy for me to be able to live with an artificial tree in the house.
So Dan and the boys went off on their annual outing to select our tree. I should have known something was amiss when they drove his car instead of taking The Truck. This has been The Truck’s sole purpose for all those years it has sat here. The kids looked forward to getting in the nasty ol’ Thing to go get a tree with their dad.
It was raining, so they set it up in the garage. When I pulled in, I thought they were joking and there was a real one in the house. But no, they had actually brought home Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tree.
Then, over the past week, when I would ask if they could bring it in the house, I’d get this chorus of, “It’s not so simple!” from all of them. But Dan dragged the thing in last night, and today we’ll take on the task of transforming The Littlest Christmas Tree into a thing of beauty. Although I may have to go get a second one to fit all of the extra ornaments on.
Next year, this little elf may break tradition and assume responsibility for the tree. What’s a minivan for, after all?