Me: "Who has the best seat in the house, me or daddy?"

Adam: "Well, Daddy's is nice, but yours is best. Your's is squishier."

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Tree Pickin'!

When you go to a pumpkin patch, you pick the biggest, roundest pumpkin you can carry, trade it out a few times for ones along the way that you like better, then you walk out of the patch smiling, sure you have THE BEST pumpkin on the planet, or at least in the patch.

Yeah, that is NOT how it works with Christmas trees.  Maybe it's because we are evil and should not kill an innocent tree for a leftover pagan ritual turned modern consumer trend.  I don't know, but it would seem that two tree snobs like Guy and I should NOT have to go to 5 tree lots to find a dead tree we both like!

(Maybe you should have started looking sooner than the 16th, you say?  Shush.)

Eventually we found ourselves back at the same hardware store parking lot that we have ended up at every year for 11 of our 12 Chrismas's here, regardless of where we start.

Guy found a tree he liked.  His priority was Fullness.
I found a tree I liked.  It had a nice top.  I'm a top girl.
Guy and I each held up our trees.  
We counted to three and told the kids to point at the one they liked...

Which cracked me the heck up.  
My tree was victorious!  
(Nano remained neutral.  I think that was wise).

Back at home the lights magically appeared on the tree (or I spent a really long time, profanity-free, of course, putting them on).  Yeah. Magic.

And *poof!*, it was decorated, without any squabbles or broken ornaments or anything.

The tree lost half it's needles by Christmas.  It sort of looked like a really tall tumbleweed.

Maybe Guy's tree would have been better.  
(shhh.  Don't tell him I told you so).

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