Merry Christmas, everyone!
~~~
Just came across a picture my sister took from our tree
hunting escapade a couple weeks ago. This photo sums it all up so well. You
guys. This was the WORST tree hunting experience I’ve EVER had. It was also our
first. So, that was our first mistake. Going tree hunting for the first time as
a family of SEVEN. Seven people plus an aunt who all have to agree on the
perfect tree. We thought we would go out on a merry adventure, find our little
tree, cut it down, cart it home, and all decorate it together like a happy
little family, singing Christmas carols all the while. Ha. Hahaha. It went
something more like this…
Joshua: “Who needs heavy coats to go tree hunting? It’s only
45° on the PRAIRIE!”
We get to the tree farm and, “Whoa, 45° feels a lot colder here…”
To say that we were a little underdressed would be an
interesting way of expressing things. Thankfully we had a couple extra blankets
in the car to wrap Baby in. There was no snow, but there was a lot of mud. Oh,
so much mud. Monkey4 was so attracted to the mud that he kept face planting
into it every couple of steps. This shocked and appalled the little guy. My
phone was very attracted to it, too. It flew out of my hand dove into a brown
puddle as I tried to snap a quaint picture of the boys walking toward the
trees.
We had brought Little Miss’ stroller along instead of the
wheelchair. Has anyone tried to push a 33lb child uphill in six inches of mud?
How’d that go for ya? Ten steps in and the wheels were so caked with mud that
all you could see was blobs of brown.
Anyway, we walked and walked all over that farm looking for
the perfect tree. And we finally found a pretty good one. But wait… There on
the horizon stood the most beautifulest Christmas tree we had seen all day. It
was only a little farther down the hill. We walked (swam?) through the mud to
inspect the gorgeous tree. Yes, we all agreed, it was perfect. We took a family
picture beside it, as you can see below. We were a happy tree hunting family.
Papa pulled out the saw to start cutting that beauty down
and… We hear him groan from under the branches. “What?!” We all shout in
concern.
“It’s two trees.”
Come again?
“It’s two trees grown up right beside each other. If we cut
one of them down it will look like we have half a tree.”
Of course. Of COURSE it had to be two trees…
But there was still the first tree we’d picked out. We would
just go back to our original choice. Sure, it wasn’t quite as pretty as the
two-tree-wonder. But it was still a nice tree. As we reached the top of the
hill headed back to that first tree we heard a terrible sound. It was the sound
of a little boy standing in front of our tree saying, “Yes, Dad, this is the
one!” And then the sound of another family’s saw cutting our Christmas tree
down. We watched them drag our tree away, along with five other near-perfect
trees. Sigh.
The hunt began again. By this time there were tears. Baby
was hungry. Two little boys had to go potty. I’m fairly certain Little Miss has never
been so cold in her life. She seemed terrified that her hands might never get
warm. I tried carrying her to comfort her. We fell in a hole. We put her back
in her stroller. She and the stroller tipped over. It was a deesaster.
We decided to put Little Miss, the aunt, and the baby (two of whom
were quite grumpy by this point) in the car while the rest of us settled on a
tree. And you know what? We ended up stumbling on the most perfect Christmas
tree I’ve ever had. More beautifuler even than that two-tree deceiver. We hacked
it down, dragged it through the mud, strapped it to the roof, and wearily
traipsed home. That blue spruce now graces our living room with enchanting
majesty. Just don’t look at the back of the tree. The mud monster wouldn’t
completely let go.
The End.
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