The bigger, the better...

I have a bit of a Christmas tree complex.


I like 'em big. The bigger, the better. I also will not accept a fake tree. Fake boobs? Yes please! Fake eyelashes? Sign me up! A tree from KMart with a pine scented airfreshener? Na uh. Not happening. Give me a big ole' fat bottom tree with a whole lotta girth and I'm a happy girl. (heh. heh.) In today's diet-ridden, PC speaking world, where else can you demand for something to be big and fat and not feel like a complete weirdo?

Keeping this in mind, we set out to cut down our own tree this year. With nothing but a saw and our sheer determination for the best tree possible, we set off into the wilderness.


Okay, not really. We went to a tree farm about 45 minutes away from my parents house. BUT we did get to use a saw. I was excited.



Searching for the perfect tree was tricky. There were so many to choose from, but they were all covered in snow.



Wait, I'm supposed to cut them down with snow all over them? Ummmm.....apparently I didn't think this whole "let's play Laura Ingalls Wilder and stomp off into the forest" thing through. That snow was deceiving. I didn't want to end up with a crap tree in disguise, but I didn't want to end up with a National Lampoon tree either.



Luckily, Sean came in handy as the perfect measuring tool. We made him stand next to trees and used his height as a comparison for the size of the tree. We also made him shake all the snow off the trees we liked. Poor, poor Sean. I still don't think he realized what he signed up for when he got down on one knee so many months ago.



As the sun began to set, we ran back and forth between 2 trees on opposite sides of the lot trying to get an idea of which one was bigger, and therefore better.


I wish someone had documented this part of the day. Three fully grown adults scrambling back and forth in the snow screaming to each other:

"How big is it?"

"Do you think it'll fit?"

"This one's wider! I like 'em wider!"

(*cough* That's what she said *cough cough*)

Finally, we settled on the perfect one...after doing a preliminary squirrel check to make sure there were no little rascals hiding out, Sean and my mom got down to business.


(aren't they hard workers? I was the supervisor. I'm verrrryyyy good at telling people what to do)

Just as the sun set over the ridge of the mountains, we made our way back to the car haulin' our loot in tow.




Just when I thought I'd squeezed every last sexual innuendoes out of this innocent little outing, as we tried to cram the giant tree into the back of my dad's pickup truck, a nearby tree farm worker hollered "You should wrap it up before you put it in! It'll make it fit easier!" (ba-da bing! ba-da boom!)

What's Christmas without totally blaspheming a sacred family tradition?

All immature, middle school jokes aside, I'd like to wish you and yours a very happy, healthy, and safe holiday season!!!


And if you would, say a prayer Santa (aka Mom and Dad) doesn't take back all my presents after reading this completely inappropriate post.