We're Getting a Fake Christmas Tree

Last weekend, we decided to take down our Christmas decorations, including the tree.  We had purchased a beautiful Douglas Fir from our local grocery store and placed it proudly in our front window.  It filled the house with that beautiful "I'm a real tree" smell all season long.  However, the needles had begun to dry and droop and now it was exuding that "I'm a fire hazard" smell.  (I'm not sure that's a real smell but it fit the story.)

It was now time for the tree to go bye-bye.

We started by carefully removing all of our ornaments, garlands and lights.  This process required us to move the tree away from the windows.  Apparently this upset the tree because about 10 lbs of dried needles fell from the branches to the floor.  Regardless, we shuffled through the Needle Sea on our carpet to make sure every bit of Christmas was removed from its boughs.  Reaching into the tree to remove ornaments was like fighting with an angry cat.  Our forearms were covered in scrapes and scratches from that vile tree.  How could something that brought so much joy be so cranky?

Once the branches were properly undressed, it was time to remove the tree from the water-filled tree stand. We made sure the sliding glass door was open to the backyard for a quick escape and set to work.  I crawled on the floor to unscrew the supports, being slapped in the face by angry branches.  My husband was holding the tree upright to prevent a collapsing disaster.  When we were ready, he lifted the tree with Herculean force, dislodging it from the stand, straight into the ceiling of our brand new house.  Startled by his mistake, he made a run for the sliding glass door.  In the process, he had unknowingly dropped the trunk back into the tree support ever-so-slightly, and it traveled with him.  Old dirty tree water spilled all over our new tan carpet.

As I screamed in dismay and made a run for the towels, my husband made a run for the sliding glass door - which apparently wasn't open wide enough.  The doorway rejected the tree with powerful rebounding force, sending a shower of whatever needles remained on the pathetic tree all over our dining room.

We now had a river of needles leading through the entire length of the house, a small pond of dirty tree water on our carpet and a mountain range of dry needles in the living room.  Fabulous.  Happy Freaking Holidays.

O' Christmas Tree, my ass.  Seriously.

Really, the decision was made for us.  We'll be purchasing an artificial tree next year and some quality Yankee Candle Factory products to supplement the smell.  Bah Humbug.