Austin, TX

I am 44 years old and I’ve never had a fake Christmas tree. Pretty funny for a self professed tree hugger. When we were kids my grandpa often got potted Christmas trees or he dug one up from the yard. After Christmas he’d plant or re-plant the tree. My parents were quite snobbish about fake trees and I guess I got that from them. I love the smell of a real tree. I don’t even mind vacuuming up pine needles for months afterward.

My mother has a LOT of Christmas ornaments. So many, in fact, that my Christmas tree memories often involve my dad tying the tree to the wall so that it would not fall over. She was very grateful when the last of our handmade “salt dough” ornaments broke. Those things were heavy. Branch breaking heavy. My dad also had a thing for very big trees. The bigger the better. We often had to cut the tree down to fit it in the house. Have you ever noticed how deceivingly small trees can look outside? Get them in the house and suddenly they loom several feet taller.

The closest we ever came to having a fake tree was during the time my dad was stationed in Spain. My mum called me up. “Honey,” she said tentatively broaching the subject, “your dad is getting a fake tree this year.” There was a brief pause while I collected myself. “Who are you, and what have you done with my real parents.” My mother sighed, “now don’t be difficult, the trees here are pathetic. They look like Charlie Brown Christmas trees. They have bare spots in many places.” “Get two,” I said, dryly, “tie them together.” I was not amused.

I arrived in Spain for Christmas to find not just your average run of the mill fake tree, but rather a gargantuan white fake tree. I stood in the center of the living room, mouth agape. “THAT,” I said, pointing and blubbering, “is NOT a Christmas tree. THAT is something more closely related to the abominable snowman.” The next day my dad took me to the big superstore and we found a real tree. It cost a small fortune but we were all much happier. Yeah, I’m a spoiled brat.

Come to think of it, I’ll be 45 in January and I’ve had an easter basket every year of my life.

Yup, very spoiled. I love it.

Just two more days until Thanksgiving, have you got your Turkey?

Christmas, tree, spoiled, real, fake, traditions, family, about me