I'm a fan of letting my hubby go pick a Christmas tree and bring it home, so I don't have to go out in the cold. He's probably a fan, too, because (a) he doesn't have to traipse around looking at tree after tree only to come back to tree number one, (b) he can thin a tree from a group of trees, rather than picking one out in the open (he's a logger at heart, I get it), and (c) he can cut the tree that's in a location that's easy to transport. But, the kids wanted to go along on the tree hunt. Lucky him, that meant he got to....
(a) Traipse around. This tree! No, THIS tree! No, let's drive over here - look, how about THIS TREE!!! I don't know.... maybe this one is better.....
(b) Cut down a tree that could someday be big and strong and ready to be harvested. Sorry little tree. You will not someday become lumber to build into something beautiful and long lasting, but you you will have the honor of displaying a string of lights and random ornaments for 4 weeks.
(c) Drive back home riding on the front of the four-wheeler holding the icy-cold tree with his hands in thin knit work gloves. That was a bad choice. His hands were like ice cubes when we got home. I was the lucky driver of said four-wheeler. I had to stand up and drive because it was difficult to see through all the tree branches. I definitely had the better job, though. I would not have traded.
But we had fun. You're a good sport, honey. Thank you for that.
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