Oh, Christmas Tree

My family went today to pick out our tree. We drove a good distance upstate, spent well over an hour hiking around and dithering. I preferred the one with the soft needles, since it wouldn't hurt my hands when I hung ornaments. Mom preferred the one with the sharper needles because it was more symmetrical and would look better in the house. Genovia liked the symmetrical one because it was a better shade of green. Shelby agreed with me. Dad didn't care. He elected Mom to decide, who said that it should be a democracy, so my sisters and I should vote, but Shelby and I elected to abstain from said vote, so Genie had to pick, but she couldn't choose under pressure, and besides, Mom always makes the final decision, so we ended up with the prickly needled one.

We stood around and waited while Dad chopped the tree, complaining about how long he was taking and about how heavy the damn tree was going to be. Mom suggested that next year we needed to bring along a boyfriend to do the heavy lifting and sawing. Shelby looked at me and waggled her eyebrows. I ignored them both and Dad yelled from under the tree, "what's this about a boyfriend?"

"Keep cutting!" we yelled back. I chuckled to myself about the morbid connotations that would have if Dad was an emo teenager.

After it successfully fell, we carried it, using two large sheets of bubble wrap as supports, up the hill (which felt like a small mountain) to the pickup station. Then we marched merrily down to the parking lot, singing Christmas carols. We made it all the way through "The Twelve Days Of Christmas," albeit so badly that the small child walking in front of us had her hands over her ears by the end.

After we collected the tree, we bought cider donuts and drank those free mulled cider samples. It was exceedingly delicious.

Then Gretchen came over, and we talked for so long that my voice is now tired.

Speaking of holidays, does anyone know when Hanukkah starts?