Trimming the Tree

Our tree is up. Again.

Last weekend under the influence of a mighty turkey hangover, I figured it was time to haul out the ornaments. The usual wrestling match ensued. The big guy wedged it through the door, screwed it into the tree stand, and untangled lights for a couple of hours. Then I tagged him out and started hanging hundreds of glass ornaments. All glass. And I do not exaggerate when I say hundreds.

The grumpy teenager finally pitched in (after we nailed his feet to the floor), and the kindergartener gleefully plopped things all over the lower two feet of branches. I had just sat down to admire the work with all three of them (thankfully) somewhere else, when the big guy wandered past the room. "Looks like it's leaning," he says. Looked fine to me. As I breathed a second contented sigh of thank-god-it's-done, the whole thing flopped over. Millions of glass shards everywhere. (The kindergartener loved it.)

Sigh.

And so we started all over. As I say, our tree is up. Again.