Family Christmas Traditions

Let me set the scene for you. Three brothers and two parents in one car. None of us get along whatsoever. The tree farm my parents "fell in love with" is over two hours away. We get there on what is inevitably the coldest year on record, and trek around for two hours searching for a tree. Initially we find three, narrow that down to two in an hour and finally, as the daylight has gone, we decide on the perfect tree. It looks like every other tree.

Dad hands me the saw..or the rusty jalopy that stands in for a saw. And there I am…face down, ass up under a 14 foot tall douglas fir that I already hate. Covered in sap and needles, freezing what used to be my balls off. Of course, the tree is so thick nobody can hold it while I cut the son of a bitch down…and you just CAN'T get out of three feet of snow that quickly. So, not only do I get the honor of cutting down a tree, but I get the PRIVILEGE of dragging it a mile down a craggy hill side, in the snow, covered in what is the most hateful mix of water, shame, sap, and sharp pointy sabers masquerading as evergreen needles.

We purchase the tree, discover we forgot rope for the 10th year in a row, but $17 of rope (roughly 10 feet), strap the tree down to the roof of the car, and make our way home in the same manner we started…miserable and tired.

Let it be known that nobody's family is better than mine.

Comments

[mom]

First of all, Tom has not participated in the drive, search, and cutting of the Christmas tree in a few years now. And although the story is funny, it is not all true. Tom, you know we never paid $17 for rope. You are so dramatic. But I still love you.

Mom

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