Oh Christmas Tree

Yesterday my family engaged in our time-honored Christmas tradition of driving half an hour to a Christmas tree farm to cut down our own tree. The event is so well-rehearsed right now that the script is as familiar as our favorite holiday films. Each member of the family chooses a tree that they like and then shoots down any suggestion made by anyone else. My mother's familiar line is always repeated at least five times on several different trees, "NOT big enough!" Outrageous at the suggestion that we get a tree shorter than my dad standing up straight with his hand in the air -- the exact height of our living room -- we inevitably choose a tree about a foot taller than said height, bring it into the house and have to chop off the top, creating a slightly trapezoidal shape. My mother insisted that you really don’t notice the top of the tree that much, and fulfilling tradition we selected an incredibly tall tree. I was unable to stay around to see the tree go up, but I can’t wait to go home in a few weeks and see it. Hopefully we won’t have a repeat event from a few years ago when our tree tipped over. We tie it to the curtain rods now to help prevent this tragedy from becoming habit.