So we went out last Saturday as a family to cut down a Christmas tree. Now for the last two years, Samantha and Daddy have gone out to do this together. Just the two of them. A nice daddy and daughter outing.
This year, husband wanted us all to go. Hmmmm….not such a good idea, me thinks, but I kept this thought to myself. Let me tell you that my husband is very into Christmas. He picks out the tree, he gets all of the decorations down from the attic and puts them all out and puts them all away when the season is over. Amazing, I know. We built a $60,000 addition on our house so that he could have a ten-foot Christmas tree.
So we get to the tree farm early enough to miss the major crowd and park the truck. We begin looking at trees. Few meet spouse’s height requirements. I recommend several option before remembering–there’s a reason I stopped going with husband to pick out the Christmas tree!
This experience is about one thing and one thing only–a man and his quest for the perfect ten-foot tree. After my first few recommendations, I remembered this fact. And shut up. I joined the kids in who-can-stand-on-the-cut-off-stumps-on-one-foot-the-longest. The resulting noise was deemed unhelpful to husband’s tree quest, so we were told to be quiet. In the middle of a big field full of trees.
Ah yes, it’s all coming back to me now.
A boy and his tree.
As the search went on, the aggravation factor was rising. The boy got yelled at. The girl was told to knock it off. And then finally, the tree was selected and cut.
By the time we payed and piled back in truck everone was mad at everyone else and grouchy.
Ah, perfect family harmony. Next year, I’m really pushing for that daddy/daughter outing.
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