Hooray!
The tree is finally up and decorated.
It takes a while.
I mean Z only has so many hours in a day…especially with
that whole saving lives thing…at least that’s what I’m told.
And she doesn’t like it when I suggest there are more hours in
the night.
Anyway, now the tree is up and doing its whole Christmas
Tree thing…despite its previous bad attitude.
Yeah…that’s right.
Our tree had a bad attitude this year.
Notice I said “had”…it
doesn’t any more.
I straightened it out…but it wasn’t easy.
And to be honest, which is always an uncertainty…especially
with trees…especially with trees with bad attitudes…I was a little surprised.
Not something you’d expect from a Christmas tree…especially
this time of year.
I was walking past it with my bowl of soup on Monday—the day
after we lugged it into the house and got it situated in its usual spot in the
living room—and I swore I heard muttering.
Nothing harsh or unusual, as far as muttering goes, but
different from the normal muttering I’m used to hearing from my stomach around
lunch time, which usually has to do with disagreement over my particular soup
selection on any given day.
No, this was more of a mild, non-descript muttering, the
kind you might hear when someone is making a passive aggressive point of
displeasure.
I casually put my soup down on the table and walked back over
to the tree.
“I’m sorry…I missed that.” I said. “Were you talking to me?”
Okay, I know…that sounds weird…me putting my soup down and
talking to a tree.
You’re right…normally I would have eaten the soup, first…but
this just seemed like something I needed to nip in the bud, before it got out
of hand. The last thing I need during the holidays is a disgruntled tree
badmouthing me to dinner guests. The guests are pretty adept at doing that themselves
without help from an arbor-ant life form.
“No.” the tree said.
“I was just talking to myself. No one usually eavesdropped when I was
alone in the forest.”
Okay…now that’s a dig, I know…but I was big enough to let it
go.
Instead, I thought I’d try a little tension breaking humor
to lighten the mood.
“So I guess it’s true, then …if a tree falls in the forest
and there’s no one around to hear, it does make a sound…get it?”
“That’s not funny,” the tree said in a sharp, condescending
tone. “Do you have any idea how many good friends I’ve lost in forest falls?”
“Uh…no…not really,” I said feeling somewhat admonished.
“No…I didn’t think you would, Mr. Oh look, there’s a perfect tree to stick in the corner of our
living room…let’s just hack it right out of the ground, stuff it into our car
and drive it home.”
“Oh, that…but—”
“But what?”
But you were on a Tree
Farm…not really in a forest
forest. It’s what you were there for…to
be chosen…honored, really.”
“Oh, please…just stop. Who told you that?”
“The guy down the hill who owns the place.”
“The chubby bald one who drives that insipid little mouse
trap he calls a hay ride?”
“I guess…wait, there are mice in the hay?”
“Of course there are mice in the hay, moron…it’s a farm
isn’t it?”
Okay, now first, this annoys me because I’m not used to
being a called a moron by a tree; they usually just call me dumb head. And
second, I’m a little disappointed to find out it wasn’t that cute blond trying
to get my attention on the back of the wagon, after all.
“Listen”, I say to the tree. “You had to know, one of these days someone was going to wander by and
say, now there’s a tree I’d be proud to
have decorate my house for Christmas! I mean isn’t that why you were
planted in the first place?”
The tree just flipped one of its branches in my direction;
an assortment of ornaments rattling and clanking together, holding tight to
their new home.
“I don’t know why I was planted…sometimes I wish I never
was. That no good, loser pinecone I sprang from should have just left my seed to rot inside….”
Hoo boy, I
thought. A tree suffering an existential crisis with daddy issues, to boot. We picked a doozy this year.
“But just look at how good you look, right now. Lights, tinsel, shiny bright ornaments of
every shape and design hanging from limb to limb.”
“Really?” the tree
said. Is that the argument you’re going
with…the whole, you light up the dark
holiday night, bit….really?”
“Well, you do”, I answered.
“How would you like all this glitz hanging off of every one
of your appendages, Holiday Boy…every
one?”
An image raced through my brain that made me wince. “Okay,
look, I get it. A few days ago you were planted
squarely in the woods, hanging with all your squirrel, bunny and bird buds.”
“And now look at me….”
“Now, you look amazing…you’re
everything you were always meant to be…look.”
I showed the tree the picture I took of it last night. “Not
too shabby, huh?”
“I suppose, there’s a certain charm to me…different from
before, but charm none the less.”
“Charm…are you kidding?
You’re the focal point of the room…the whole house.”
“I always did picture myself as an attention grabber…but
year after year people just walked right past me…as if I didn’t exist…as if I
didn’t matter.”
I noticed a small trickle of sap rolling down the tree's upper
most limb. Ahhhh…now we were getting to the root of the problem…so to speak.
“But you did matter,” I said. “You just had to wait until your time had
come…until both our times came together.
And now you matter to us, and you will to everyone who walks in our
house and makes a fuss over you. To all
the little kids and their holiday hearts, young and old…you will more than
matter….right through the New Year.
I wasn’t really sure where I was getting all of this stuff, but
I guess all those endless hours spent watching Hallmark Christmas movies were
finally paying off.
“I suppose you’re right,” the tree said. It was standing a little taller, a little straighter, now… proud to finally apply Christmas to its name.
“I know I’m right!”
I gave a little tug of solidarity to one of its lower limbs
and jangled a couple of ornaments loose in the process.
The Christmas tree just shot me a look. “Don’t push
it…okay? I think you’re lunch is getting
cold….”
And with that, we shared a smile…or what passes for a tree
smile….and I ran off to reheat my soup.
“Hey”, the Christmas tree called after me. “What happens after the New Year….where do I
go then?”
“What…?” I shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t hear you…the microwave is making too
much noise….”
________________________________________________
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I especially liked the Hoo boy part.
ReplyDeleteYou should see my work with "Egads!"
Deletemy favorite picture from the "forest"! and our tree is called the leaning tower of christmas tree-sa. it stubbornly will not stand up straight so therefore, we shall go along with it.
Deletetis the season...
We've had a couple of leaners ourselves through the years, even with are handy dandy LL Bean adjustable tilting stand. They make the most enchanting sound, like the tinkling of Pixies Elves playing in the middle of the night, until they finally tumble and sound more like someone threw a brick through your window. TWICE!. Now we tie our guys and gals up...EVERY YEAR...which also accounts for some of the bad tree attitude. You have been warned! Listen for the Pixie elves playing in the night...and then find a broom.
ReplyDeletemy broom is fancy... ;0)
Delete