I bought a Christmas tree many years ago, when I was away from home and on my own. You know, when I should have been in college....
Anyway, it was a lovely tree at the time. Seven and half feet, bright eyed and bushy tailed. I loved it. When I got married, I brought this tree to the marraige, which is good, because Scrooge didn't have a tree (I call L "Scrooge" mostly jokingly. He's not as Christmasy as I would like, but I'm keeping him anyway).
For the first year or two of our marriage, our little tree was a delight. My decorations are fabulous (if I do say so myself), and I always enjoyed putting it up. Then came the Christmas when I opened our tree bag to see a withered, dusty shell of a Christmas tree. Needles were falling off left and right. For that matter, so were the branches. I had to raid the garage regularly to find screws to get those folding branches back in their holders. And THEN I had to actually put lights on the tree.Confession- I have a Christmas tree light disorder. I can only use clear lights. Not so bad, you think. Oh but wait, there's more! I start at the base of each branch, wrap the lights tightly around to the tip, and then tightly wrap them back to the base again. Move to next branch and repeat. This translates into HOURS of Christmas light stringing. And I'm not a person who likes to spend hours doing something. So by the time I'm done with the lights, I'm pretty mad at the world, and particularly the tree which I am decorating.
About the time that I dubbed our poor little tree the "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree," some brilliant person came up with pre-lit trees. Pre-lit! And they light them like I do! Hours of my life saved from toiling in scratchy branches!
Hooray!," I said.
L said "maybe we can afford one next year, honey."
"Pigman," I said (not really, but I may have thought it once or twice, which was not very nice. I blame it on the infections from the branch scratches. I was delirious I tell you!).
And every year, we moved to a new house. Moving = no money for trees.
This year, I found this beautiful 12 ft pre-lit tree at Sam's for a very reasonable price. We have 2 story ceilings in our living room, so I thought it would be perfect. I showed L, who said "maybe we can afford it next year, honey."
"Pigman," I probably thought (seriously, I'm not a nice person).
And then last week L offered to take some extra call at work. With his call, he gets paid an hourly rate for the trouble and then he gets a pretty good chunk of change when he gets called in. That night, he got called in THREE times. The last time, he was almost home when they called him back. He called me on his way and said, "I guess I made enough for your Christmas tree tonight. We can go get it tomorrow, if you like."
"You are so not a Pigman!," I cried with glee.
The next morning dawned bright and cold. Hatchling announced straight away that he desired a sausage biscuit from McDonald's for breakfast, so we all got dressed and went out for breakfast. After, we headed to Sam's and bought my tree, which came in two ginourmas boxes.
"Are you sure this will fit?," asked L.
"Of course," I said, "our ceilings are TALL!"
Upon arriving home, I noticed, as we unloaded box 2 of 2, that there was a diagram on the side of the box depicting the tree's dimensions. 12 ft tall. 6 ft at the base. Yes, 6 ft in diameter
. I casually mentioned this to L. His eyes started bugging out and his face began to redden. "Slush, where do you think we have room for a 6 ft in diameter Christmas tree?"
"Ummm, we don't. But it didn't look that big at the store. I'm sure those dimensions are wrong. Let's just get it out and see." (my optimisim is refreshing, no?)
After taking out the stand and section E, which was the bottom of the tree, it was confirmed that the tree was indeed too big. Unless we were to put it in the center of our room and pretend that we live in a bank or an office building, it was a no go. I was devestated. L was just plain mad. He huffed and he puffed and he declared that I was supposed to be more intelligent than this (I am no longer allowed to make spatial decisions without a consultation).
With much sadness (on my part) and irritation (L's part), and screaming (Hatchling's part) we packed up the box and returned it. But fear not, our Chirstmas story doesn't end there!
I found a 10 ft skinny
tree online from a shop I have visited over in Tulsa, and I ordered it with delight. It should be here next week. And, you will be happy to know, I confirmed that it's only 4 ft wide at the base! You will also be happy to know, I'm sure, that my Charlie Brown tree has gone to bless my sister's home, and is happy once again.