We put up our Christmas tree this past weekend. Usually this is a family affair, where the whole clan gather up, don our Winter apparel, and drive out to the National forest to cut down the perfect tree. No worries, we always make sure we shake out any nests that are lodged in the branches before we head home.
Okay, truth? We actually take the red wagon around the corner to the local nursery, where we pay exorbitant city prices for a beautiful Noble Fir. This way we don't have to drive anywhere on the weekend. It's not as lame as it sounds. Really.
As I mentioned, usually this is what happens. This year? Well, since everyone else in the family was sick and feverish, I had to handle the epic quest for the perfect tree alone. Not to worry though, as it took me all of about 20 minutes. That's door to door.
And I really did end up with a pretty good tree too, despite my skeptics who were both full of helpful advice as I was leaving. Point to Dad!
For the most part the tree was a huge hit once I got it home too. There was one little set back though. Small really. Kind of funny even, now that we look at it in retrospect.
It sorta scared the hell out of Annabelle.
You see, she was asleep when I set out on my quest. And, as previously mentioned, since I was so efficient in picking the perfect tree, she was still asleep when I returned. Still asleep when I got it set up in its holder. Still asleep, even, when the lights went up.
Then, when she finally did wake up and I brought her downstairs, I don't think she actually saw it at first.
So when I put her down and she started walking towards it she finally stopped, looked up at it for a moment - as if taking in its magnificent beauty, and with a look of pure horror on her face fell onto her bottom and began to cry - uncontrollably.
While, when looking at her this is what I saw:
I'm pretty sure this is more like what Annabelle was seeing:
Of course I quickly gathered her up and consoled her. "It's nothing to be afraid of" I reasoned, "It's just a Christmas Tree." I then executed a classic move straight out of the Parenting Handbook (page 1152 if I am not mistaken).
That's right, I slowly carried her over to the tree, extending her hand to the still green and soft needles and said "See, nice tree. Nothing to be scared of." She looked dubious, but not too long after that she let out a big smile. At that point I knew we were golden.
And soon the tree would be too.