Oh Christmas Tree…

Sitting in my living room in the warm glow of my lovely Christmas Tree, I realize to my sadness that it is probably time to take it down.

//sigh//

Growing up, my family did not get the Christmas Tree until probably a week before Christmas Day, and we were known to keep it up through the end of January, sometimes into February. There were times I was so distraught over it’s un-decking that my dad stood it up in the back yard, planting it in the snow behind my swing set so that it would still be in sight.

Did I mention my parents had a knack for humanizing inanimate objects? We often named the Tree. All of our cars had names, my stuffed animals talked and had personal histories, and according to my dad, our guinea pig was in a band and the neighborhood pets would all come over and practice while I was at school, or while we went out for pizza.

Though a lot of fun, and I know for a fact done with the best of intentions and much affection, it has most likely contributed to my being an emotionally oversensitive pack rat (See any of my posts regarding cleaning or organizing) 😉

This has also made taking down my own Christmas Tree every year a lump-firmly-in-throat experience. At least I’m not alone in this. I’ve now mentioned to George three times in the past week that it’s about time to take it down. Each time, he softly whined “Ohhh” like a sad little 3rd grader.

His family put up their tree on Christmas Eve. Actually, the story goes that he and is brother were sent next door to their grandparents to help get dinner together. His dad and/or mom would make an excuse to stay behind for a bit, and at that point they would secretly erect and decorate the tree. After dinner when they came home to open gifts, and HOLY MOLY IT’S CHRISTMAS! So he also enjoys the magic of a Christmas Tree. He is fun to tree shop with, and has no qualms about it staying up long after the neighbors have sent theirs to mulch.

So here I sit in my living room in the warm glow of my Christmas Tree, lump firmly in my throat knowing that I should probably spend Wednesday evening packing up the ornaments. Trash day is Thursday morning, and I absolutely hate seeing the tree lying sad and bare on the curb for any period of time.

Or maybe I can wait just one more week…

xo
en

P.S. Don’t bother asking “why don’t you get an artificial tree?” It’s just not the same.