You know you’re a grown-up (or a Grinch?) when you start to seriously consider getting a fake Christmas tree.
Always one to cling to tradition, I never thought I could imagine a Christmas without the piney scent of fresh needles, the sacred process of selecting just the right specimen (never too bushy), tying it to the top of the ol’ minivan and finally, the art of fitting the boughs with an aging strand of C7s so that as little of the cord as possible showed between branches. It was all so darn magical. I couldn’t understand why my dad did all that sighing and cussing every year.
The December after I moved out, Mom and Dad bought an artificial tree. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them happier. Dad definitely seemed to have a new bounce in his step. As for me, I thought they were traitors. I made a promise then that I’d never sell out. And I’ve kept it…until now.
We knew we needed a tree for our holiday party on Sunday, so we figured we’d take care of it first thing in the morning. It took. all. day.
First there was an epic search for rope – I now know that grocery stores, drug stores and Targets do not carry it, but hardware stores do. Next we learned there was a silvertip shortage in these parts, so our usual tree farm was a no-go. Our local tree lot was all but sold out. The next nearest lot was charging $80-90 for a six-to-seven-foot silvertip. Even the little five-foot firs were going for $50. The boyfriend claimed this was normal, but I refused to believe it, so we moved on. We finally found a decent-sized noble fir for $40 at Home Depot, but when we got it home, it wouldn’t stand up in our tree stand because the trunk was too heavy. Somehow he wrangled it into position and carried it into the house, at which point it toppled over, permanently warping our little metal stand. So the boyfriend went out into the cold rain for a new stand. I guess December is far too late to buy a stand, because the first three or four places he hit up were plumb out. It’s a good thing he finally found one at Home Depot (the second time they saved us that day). Otherwise our tree would be laying in the front yard instead of aglow in our living room.
So instead of dreaming of a white Christmas, I’m dreaming of a white aluminum Christmas tree for next year.
Or a silver tinsel tree.
Hell, maybe I’ll go turquoise. I figure as long as I know it’s fake, there’s no point in trying to be naturalistic…might as well go all out.
Or maybe I need to take a cue from Charlie Brown and remember what Christmas is all about.