The Christmas Monster Strikes

I must admit that I am a complete Christmas Tree snob. I am firmly opposed to fake trees, and have no problem breaking the bank to purchase the perfect Christmas tree. As soon as December rolls around the Christmas Monster takes hold of my soul, and terrorizes my family. The Hubby cannot escape my incessant nagging to find the perfect tree, decorate the house, and simply BE CHEERY!!! As we closed the door on Thanksgiving, the nagging began.
**Disclaimer**: My Christmas Tree Snob Mentality does not extend beyond my family, and should in no way be taken personally.

In the midst of one of my many 'motivational' Christmas lectures, The Hubby suggested we cut a tree down off of our land. His intentions were clear, he was trying to appease my Christmas Monster, and buy himself some time. Little did he know the true Monster he would create. I paused, I thought, and then felt an overwhelming sense of inspiration. What could be more perfect?! Who knew he had such Christmas genius within him! The Hubby could instantly feel the sheer insanity he had created, and unsuccessfully tried to retreat.

It was dark and blistering cold, but we piled into the car, and set out to find Our Tree. After a thirty second reversal down the driveway, we spotted Her. She stood proud and tall, and dripped with Christmas Spirit. Despite my impatience, The Hubby was able to temporarily curb my enthusiasm, and we agreed to do the actual cutting in the daylight.

The next few days crept by, and a corner of our living room sat barren, patiently awaiting the arrival of the PERFECT Christmas Tree. Sunday finally arrived, and all was prepared. The skirt sat, ready to conceal the trunk. The stand sat, ready to provide support and balance. The ornaments lay, ready to adorn and enhance.

We trudged down the driveway, bundled beyond recognition. The Babe's nose was rosy and chilled, but his grin suggested Christmas cheer was present within. As we approached the tree, we quickly realized Her glory. She stood, towering over us, daring us to squeeze Her into our tiny dwelling.

Few words were needed to determine that She was much too grand for our purpose, so we continued in our search.


Further down the driveway we found another prospect, one we had previously scoffed at. She looked insufficient, and petite at best. Once measured, we realized She was much larger than She looked amidst the expansive country. She was The One, so The Hubby revved the chainsaw, and got to work. After some chopping, dragging, shaking, and grunting, she was perfectly nestled in the corner of our living room.

That is where she now sits, and will sit for the weeks to come. She lacks fullness, and Her needles make navigation through Her branches a torturous endeavor. A butterfly cocoon hangs daintily from a single limb, reminding us of Her authenticity. She is not the most aesthetically pleasing of trees, but She is true, and She is ours.


She is our tree, which twinkles in the window as we pull up the driveway. She is our tree, which fills the house with the aromatic scent of winter. She is our tree, which will embrace each and every present that sits beneath her needles.


With a cavalier suggestion from The Hubby, and some obsessive persistence from my Christmas Monster, we have created a tradition. One which we will carry on, in the hopes that we can display respect and appreciation for the land that has provided us with a place to call Home.