The Star

Growing up in my parents house, we always had fake trees. The idea was that we should let a tree live a long happy life in the woods where it belonged. I'm pretty sure that was just a cover-up, the excuse used so that my neat-freak Mum wouldn't have to obsess over pine needles. Jeffrey and I spent our first Christmas together in Florida. We didn't have a Christmas tree, but we did have a fake stereotypical Dr.'s office tree with some lights hung on it. Our second Christmas was spent in our little apartment in Vairo, and we purchased a nice fake evergreen from Walmart, mostly because that's what we both grew up with. This year, I kind of wanted a real tree. I figured that since there's a baby in the house, a fake six-footer just would not do. Jeffrey reasoned with me, why kill a tree? I reasoned with myself, would I rather this baby pull a three pound piece of plastic on her head, or crush herself under a fifty pound log?

Fake tree it is.

Jeffrey put the tree together because I'm not very good at "fluffing" it, I put on lights and ornaments while Mads chewed on the boxes. When the tree was done except for the star that goes on top, Daddy lifted up Baby and they finished the tree together. I held the camera and sniffled. Our first Christmas tradition:

Too early? It's not even December yet. Happy Holidays.