Thursday, December 11, 2008

Getting The Tree, 2008 Edition

Saturday was the first day so far that put me in the Christmas spirit and made me feel like my favorite holiday really was right around the corner.

After spending the morning on a Holiday House Tour, seeing how the other half lives (it should have been called a Merry Mansion Tour), I switched my stilettos for my snow boots and we headed out for the tree.

I’m kind of annoying (who, me?) when it comes to Christmas. I LOVE Christmas, and everything associated with it. And because I don’t have kids and macaroni ornaments and toys everywhere, Christmas in my house is more Martha Stewart than Mother of the Year.

I’m a big “traditions” kind of girl, so we always get our tree from the Boy Scouts in our town. They set up shop right around the corner from our house, they have a bunch of trees, and I feel like I’m supporting a good cause.

Unfortunately for the Boy Scouts, I’m not like every other tree-buyer that walks through the plastic orange make-shift fence. I’m looking for the perfect tree. And finding it could take a little bit of time. And I don’t like to rushed.

But the Boy Scouts, god bless them, are persistent.

So there I am, walking around the tree lot like the pied piper with a trail of Boy Scouts following behind me.

We immediately see a tree we like, but we’ve only been tree-searching for 3 minutes. I can’t just get the first tree I admire. What kind of girl would I be?

So we continue on.

If I even paused at a tree, or motioned to Mr. KK in the vague direction of a tree, one of the Boy Scouts would run up and pull the tree out for us to see.

It was sweet, really.

The first 26 times.

BOY SCOUT: “This one?
ME: “Too tall.”
BS: “This one?”
ME: “Too short.”
BS: “THIS one?”
ME: “Too fat.”
BS: “How about this one?”
ME: “Too naked.”
BS: “This?”
ME: “Too…ugly.”

So there we are, being all indecisive and stuff, when we see these two guys walk off with our original tree. The perfect tree. The tree I couldn’t commit to so early.


And then, I’m totally creeped out. We’re looking at tree #57 when this strange guy with a camera comes up to us.

SG: “Wow, you guys move fast…”
Um, who are you?
SG: “I’ve been following you around..”
Excuse me?
SG: “I’m with the (INSERT NAME OF A REALLY, REALLY, REALLY SMALL COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER THAT NO ONE HAS HEARD OF) and I just wanted to get a photo for the paper of you guys getting a tree.”
ME: “Oh, I thought you were the paparazzi.”

So after looking at every tree, being stalked by the photojournalist and losing our favorite tree to someone else, we finally choose a tree.

We have our new BFF Boy Scout cut off the bottom (whose name is Angus we learn...don't meet many Anguses...), load it onto the truck and bring it home.

It’s in the living room in its stand in all its glory.

MR. KK: “I hate it.”
ME: “Me too.”


Andy said...

Example 1 of why people hate newspaper people like myself. Freakin paparazzi.

Sarah Elizabeth said...

Oh noooo! You hate it!???