Last year I traded my old Charlie Brown tree for an upgrade. It is definitely an improvement. However, there is something to said for having a small tree. My former little tree was so much easier to handle. I got the tallest tree that would fit in our house. Our tree ended up being an inch too tall. The star on top was a little lop-sided because it didn't have enough room to stand up straight. But I was pleased with the tree . . . until I had to pack it all away in the attic.
I brought the tree down from the attic in three pieces, and it had to go back in three pieces as well. Down was much easier than up. I wrestled and wrangled the tree, half-afraid that I would fall and break my neck with any wrong step. I was lucky and escaped with no injuries. When I finished loading the tree and all of the other Christmas boxes back into the attic I felt strong, independent, and capable. I also thought, "I am not looking forward to doing this again!"
I saw the merits of dealing with a real tree--but it is what is. I also thought of one of the bonuses of having teenage boys. Todd and Ryan don't know what's in store for them yet. I am sure they will be anxious for the day when they surpass my height and are able to prove themselves stronger than their mom. When that day comes I will gladly announce their reward: Christmas Tree Duty!
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