This has nothing to do with politics, but it is appropriate humor for the season. My husband wrote this story, and I hoped it would make some of you smile during this holiday season:
This Christmas season, like many in the past, began with the holiday tradition of the "Christmas Tree Hunt" . The "Hunt" as we like to call it, consists of Katie, the 3 boys and I walking up and down a Christmas tree farm trying to decide which tree is the perfect one. To me, they pretty much all look the same. But every hunt, I am often educated on the merits of one tree versus the other as we pass row upon row of trees. This tradition usually takes about 1 or 3 hours, but with all the fun, cold and arguing, it really only feels like 12.
The end of the hunt is initiated by the spectacle of me crawling under a tree to begin the tree felling process. This process always involves scrapping half the skin off my knuckles as I use the rustiest saw possible to take down the tree..., and every year (with a little luck as far as Katie and the boys are concerned) the tree lands on me..., burying me under its Yule tide branches, until Katie and the boys have laughed themselves out and finally decide it is time to help me up.
This year..., this year was different. We went to a new tree farm. I heard good things about this place. Lots of nice trees, lots of help and, they did practically everything for you there. I was happy as soon as we got there. They greeted us at the car, asked us what kind of tree we were looking for, and guided us to the PERFECT tree. They even cut the tree down for us! It was wonderful. There was some grumbling from the boys about not getting to see me under the newly fallen tree. But the grumbling was quickly drowned by the complementary free hot apple cider handed out at the tree shack. Did I mention I really loved this new tree farm? Anyway, this place did everything EXCEPT tie the tree to the roof of the van, due to liability issues. Apparently some yahoo sued them once after a tree they tied to the roof came off during the drive home. However, they did have a large spool of very flimsy looking twine you could use if you so wished.
Now, I was prepared for this. I had heard that they did not tie the tree onto your car at this place, and all they had was bad twine (yeah, we Dad’s talk about that stuff out here in the boonies of PA). So, I had brought with us a giant box of assorted bungee cords in various sizes, shapes and colors. Instead of trying to tie the tree to the roof rack with the cheapest twine known to man, I’d be slinging and hooking the tree down hard and fast with my bungees. It would be much easier and much safer. By the time I had finished... it looked like the tree was being held in place by a giant multicolor rubber lacrosse net.
As we got into the van, Katie and the boys complained about messing with the holiday tradition. "Tradition, smedition" I thought. This was so much better, no cuts, no bruises and no walking around for hours looking for a tree. My only concern about the whole thing had been having to tie the tree onto the roof myself... and the bungees took care if that wonderfully.
We had a great ride home blasting Christmas tunes on the radio the whole way. We all sang as loud and as off key as humanly possible. By the way, not once did the tree move during the whole drive. The bungee cords really did the trick.
I thought to myself how picture perfect (and painless) this whole event had been when we hit the crescendo ending of "DECK THE HALLS". It was timed perfectly with the end or our drive.
I activated the remote for the garage door and pulled up the driveway and into the garage.
Fa, la, la, la, la, LA, LA, LA, LA .
All of a sudden the van was no longer filled with the sound of Christmas carols... it was filled with the weird sound of crunching wood, breaking branches and scratching sheet metal. The tree was being ground between the roof of the van and the open garage door.
I had forgotten the freaking Christmas tree was strapped to the roof.
My Christmas spirit and my heart dropped at once as everyone screamed the "THE TREE – THE TREE"
I jammed on the breaks and we were all jerked violently forward as the van stopped three quarters of the way through the garage doorway.
Katie leapt from the van and looked at the roof exclaiming "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" When she saw the tree smushed (smushed = smashed + crushed) between the roof rack and the garage door , her face turned a lovely shade of holiday red as she cried out "DAM’IT FRANK!!!!!!!". William and Jason began screaming "DAD!!!!" Logan broke out in tears.
Cringing, I took a peak out the side view mirror to see a pile of evergreen branches scattered on the ground around and behind the van. I thought to myself, I should get out and take a look, but fear of what I would find (and admittedly a slight fear of Katie at this point) kept me in my seat. I stayed safely strapped in and asked Katie, "How bad is it?" Holding her head in her hands, she sobbed "Just back the car out... asshole". Logan exclaimed "OOOOH Mommy cursed", then Jason told him it was alright because it was Christmas time (I still don’t understand the connection there).
Cursing under my breath (since it was Christmas time) to the tune of "Deck the Halls", I put the van into reverse and started to back it out of the garage.
Now, unbeknownst, to anyone at the time... the "wonderful and safe" bungee cords must have snagged themselves on the garage door handle.
I heard creaking and straining which I assumed was the roof rack and the garage door..., I desperately hoped that the damage was minimal. Something just didn’t feel right (as if anything could have felt "right" at that moment). I slowly continued to back the van out of the garage. Maybe we can still save the tree, I thought.
Those bungees must have pulled and stretched pretty darn tight. We all were quite startled when we heard an incredibly load TWANG!!! For a split second I thought to myself – "what the heck was that?" Then there was a WOOSH noise as a green blur of motion passed over the windshield when the tree was shot off the roof rack like a pebble from a sling shot. It was fast, impossibly fast. What was left of the tree shot across the garage like some kind of giant festive green arrow. Pine needles and branches flew everywhere.
When the green pine tree mist finally settled... I saw Katie covered in pine needles from head to toe, her eyes ablaze in red anger... a red that would have put Rudolf’s nose to same. I diverted my eyes as to not start laughing (I mean come on she was COVERED ... COVERED in pine needles, with the combined look of confusion, surprise, anger -- the anger part worried me a bit ) I visually started scanning the floor in front of the van for the tree– maybe it could be saved, right?
It wasn’t on the ground – had if vaporized??... where the heck was it??.... Then I saw it... the trunk of the tree was now stuck through the back wall of the garage.... like some bizarre giant mutant holiday dart. There was nothing left of the once perfect tree. It was now just a strange piece of wood quivering as it stuck out of a wall covered in what remained of my multicolored bungees. Two thoughts came to my mind at the same time... That sucker is a goner and I’m going to be a dead man for Christmas.
Now, people say, "you have to laugh, or you cry"... hmm, really?, What people don’t say is also true..... well, sometimes, you just have to drive like hell out of there. I rolled down the window and called out to Katie..."You got this, Honey?" ... Unsurprisingly there was no reply, and I wasn’t going to wait for one either. I said sheepishly, "I’ll just go get another tree, ok?" and rolled the window back up.
As I peeled out of the driveway, I decided I’d go back to the old tree farm ... where I cut down the tree myself, using the rustiest saw possible, scrapping half the skin off my knuckles, and end up getting buried beneath its branches.... Then I let THEM tie the tree to the roof using the cheapest twine known to man.
After all, it’s a Holiday Tradition