We had a real Christmas tree in 2005, our first year in the condo. Since then? Nada.
Four years ago we weren’t married. We had no dogs and plenty of space. Both of us grew up with real Christmas trees and it was of the utmost importance. We decorated the tree with lights, we hung stockings and we even strung garland and other corny holiday cheer all over the house. Because really, what else did we have to do with our time?
Then we got a dog. And then another. Then MJ was pregnant and I’m pretty sure the smell of the tree (like seemingly everything else) would’ve made her vomit. And last Christmas, well…let’s just say postpartum depression combined with taking care of an 8-month-old leaves little time (and money) for a tree and decorations.
But this year is different.
This year we were determined to have a tree and decorate the shit out of it. Plus Will is almost 2 now and we want to start a tradition. At first MJ suggested an artificial tree. That did not go over well. Having an artificial tree is a cardinal sin for me. I like my Christmas trees how I like my boobs, exposed and within reach REAL! So we agreed to pick one out just as soon as we had the time. But time is something neither of us have.
So when I got a call from MJ telling me she found THE PERFECT TREE for only $30, I told her I trusted her and to buy it. In hindsight, the bargain basement price of $30 should’ve tipped me off, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.
That’s why Will’s first Christmas tree has been lovingly dubbed, “The Christmas Shrubbery.”
Look at that thing. I’m a mere 5’10” tall and I look down on it. It’s the Spud Webb of Christmas trees. It’s a Christmas tree that Kiefer Sutherland can see eye to eye with. I kept waiting for the Knights Who Say “Ni” to come out and demand a shrubbery. In short, this is one tiny tree.
It’s diminutive state is made even more noticeable by our cathedral ceilings, so it has the effect of parking a tricycle in an airplane hangar. I nearly pissed myself laughing when MJ asked if I needed help bringing it in the house. I could’ve put this tree on the backs of a few ants and had them carry it in. But as I continued to make fun of the tree, I noticed MJ was getting angry. But since I’m stupid and that never stops me, I kept harping on it. Until MJ struck back out of the blue.
“Well what can I say? When it comes to trees and men I pick out the short, fat ones,” she said.
This time it was my turn to be agitated, but MJ wasn’t done.
“I felt bad for it, sitting all alone with all the other better looking trees surrounding it. Plus look, it’s getting bald in spots too. So really I had to take it home, because no one else was going to.”
So we put on the lights and the decorations and I have to admit, it’s a cute and unique little tree that cleans up OK. And Will absolutely loves it. He walks over to it when it’s all lit up, stares at it and just says “WOOOOOW!” It’s cute as hell.
We had a slight problem with him wanting to grab the tree and pull all the ornaments off. I repeatedly told him not to touch it with his hands, and he got the message. But as I’m quickly learning, if there’s a loophole kids will find it and exploit it. You see, I told him not to touch it with his hands. So what did he do? He started kissing the tree and all the ornaments. Touche my boy, touche!
And, as is tradition in our family, the youngest child gets to put the angel on top of the tree. Since he’s the only child (for now), he did the honors.