Science and fiction is where Jennifer lives in her head, so penning worlds into tales for adults and teens isn’t a stretch. On Earth, she lives with her husband and two children in Columbia, MD, who pride themselves on proving that dysfunction is FUN. Her current projects include a sci-fi novel for middle-schoolers and a paranormal romance for teens, keeping up with her writers’ group, and wasting time on her blog and Facebook.
For our first Christmas, my husband and I go on a grand adventure to pick out a tree. I am so excited—our first treasured holiday memories! My husband thinks we are just picking out a tree.
My gallant man hauls tree after tree from a pile twice his height and several car lengths long. He carries them over to me and stands them up, tapping their trunks on the ground to let the branches loosen and show their shape. No, not that one. Not the next one, or the next twelve. Maybe we should go somewhere else.
I shift my weight—my feet are getting sore and cold from just standing there. Oh, my poor sweetie has cut his hand again; I’ll have to get him some band-aids when we finish. No, it looks like this cut will need stitches. It’s just as well, he should probably get a tetanus shot after he fell on the lot’s rusted fence.
No, that tree’s not right either. It has to be perfect. I frown; I’m certain I’ve seen the next one he brings me. My fingers still hurt from those sharp little needles. Thank goodness my hubby gave me his gloves.
Finally, I see it. I’m in love! The very last tree, all the way at the bottom of the pile (they always hide the best ones at the bottom). Beautiful color, smell, shape…just perfect. Though we will have to wipe my sweetie’s blood off the trunk. The only red that belongs on a Christmas tree are ornaments.
It’ll be so much fun decorating with my darling husband. I can pick the perfect vantage point and direct the placement of everything. I bounce with excitement; I just bought a new 500-pack of tinsel, and each strand has a special home on this tree. How thrilling for my sweetheart and I to celebrate our first Christmas together.
It takes my hero twenty minutes to strap the tree to our car. It’s quite chilly. I probably should have brought a jacket. Oh well, his fits better anyway. The poor dear, he can’t see that the rope is bending those perfect little branches. That won’t do, so I point it out and he reties the rope.
As we drive home, I smile at him and remind him to slow down. People are honking at us, but our tree can’t handle high speeds since my dearest loosened the rope. We really should have a roof rack. I told him we needed a rack when we bought the car, but he said no, since we were already three grand over our car budget. Clearly, he should have listened to me. I’ll just cross my arms and not talk to him until he tells me I was right.
When we get home, he runs in to get a pair of gloves and a jacket, while I make hot cocoa for myself. I put my feet up—I’m exhausted. Picking out a tree is so much work. I’m still steamed about that roof rack deal, so I glare silently while he gets a drink. Doesn’t he know the tree has to come inside right away and be put in water?
I break my silence to remind him. He looks surprised at my tone. Didn’t he even realize I was upset? How can he ask me what’s wrong? I stomp into the kitchen and tell him nothing’s wrong. He shrugs and goes outside to get the tree.
How dare he ruin a precious holiday memory with his attitude! He’ll just have to buy me that roof rack. I won’t be happy any other way. How can he not know what I’m upset about?
A few hours later, after the tree is up and I’ve calmed down in a hot bath, I tell him we need to talk. I ask him what would have made the drive home easier, but he doesn’t seem to understand. After explaining it to him, he’s silent, probably pondering how he didn’t think of an obvious solution like buying a roof rack before we got a Christmas tree.
I smile, happy, knowing he appreciates my wisdom. I suppose he deserves a nice hot drink, so I go make him cocoa. As I pass through the living room, I see the tree is a little off-center. We’ll just have to fix that…
(Note from Momma: Please leave a comment on today’s or ANY Momma’s 12 Days post and be entered to win an Elf Pack, filled with fabulous holiday treats, plus the GRAND PRIZE, a Keurig Platinum Series Brewer!)
