Timberrr!

Saturday I went to the Home Depot to buy a Christmas tree. It was about 87 degrees and sunny. I shopped for a tree in shorts, t-shirt, and sandals. There is something wrong with that from the get-go.

We decorated the tree on Saturday evening while corralling a 2-year-old who delighted with the lights, the ornaments, and all the knick-knacks. “No, no, don’t go behind the tree. Don’t touch the lights, they’ll burn you. No you can’t play with the porcelain Santa Clause. Here’s a stuffed penguin on skis. Here let’s put that Mickey Mouse high up on the tree.”

Sunday afternoon everyone came to our house for my birthday celebration. My birthday is not December 4th. It’s December 10th, but we’re leaving town on Thursday for a trip to somewhere that is a secret. That’s another story. We were sitting and talking when the tree started to slowly lean toward the center of the room. It was obvious that it was falling right on top of Jennifer, and the Goddess and I were too far across the room to catch it. All we could do was yell “aaiiee!” I jumped up to try to catch it, but it crashed onto Jennifer and the floor before I could reach it. Glass, water, needles from the tree, all everywhere.

I set the tree upright, but the damage was done. Jennifer got a scratch, but fortunately it was light. We swept, wiped up water, tightened the base on the tree, and re-hung the unbroken ornaments. The 2-year-old witnessed it all, but was not the cause. The two dogs were outside, so they were blameless. We don’t exactly know why it fell just then, but I’m thinking it was the Ghost of Christmas Past.