Well, we finally did it.
Ever since our first three-foot tree in our first apartment (the one that Jill's brothers all laughed at because they always tried to get the Rockefeller Plaza trees twin into their small North County bungalow), we've had a real live, honest-to-tradition Christmas tree. And we have been proud of it, too. But after last years experience of the loss of multiple ornaments and tangled lights and a need to nail the dang bush into the baseboards with fishing wire.....for the second season in a row....well, we said last January that it was time to go the...the, uh...the artificial route. ( There....I said it.) Our oldest son said he was sorely disappointed in us, and that he wasn't coming home for Christmas this year. Well, he was only half kidding, because he can't come home anyway, due to work. But the message was clear.
We were "selling out."
Still, we made a couple of visits to the local family-owned hardware store display at the Otto's Handyman-True Value, and amidst some sadness for bygone days, made the move to the practical.
"It's gonna be fine," said I, to my sad wifey, as we walked to the car. "I'm so sorry," said she, to the collection of forlorn little trees out on the lot.
Charlie Brown and Linus would not be proud of me.
But as I contemplate the idea of a non-shedding, non-flammable, and best of all, non-falling-to the-floor-crashing-in-the-middle-of-the-night disaster area in the family room....well, let's just say that this idea may not be as bad as it first seemed.