As the years have ticked on by, we have continued the battle - he wants smaller, I want bigger. Some years I've won, some he has, typically we meet in the middle. This year when the tractor ride dropped us at the "frasier fur" trees and they were shorter than I am, we both agreed it was best to look for something bigger. It didn't take long, three or four rows into the field to find "the one." The mere size of our tree isn't what's changed, it's the lights.
We have a new tradition in this house, one that will stick for years to come, one our kids will say "it has always been that way... since I can remember." We have taken over the tradition of the big colored lights and bubblers. Earlier this week Dad called and told me two things that further emphasized Phyllis and my quote "change equals bad."
Number 1: Mom and Dad were not going to cut a tree down anymore.
Number 2: The tree they had bought was prelit.
HUH? How was I to make fun of the lights Dad put up every year if they weren't there? What about the memories we have of the ugly tree topper (sorry Dad, but it is :)? There was nothing else to do but carry on the tradition ourselves. The kids just stare at the tree, Erk and I find ourselves staring at it... earlier Erk said "this is the best Christmas tree I've ever had." And it truly is. How cool is it to think that our kids will always remember this as the way we did it, just as I do from when I was little. As for the 8 strands of tiny white lights? They have retired to the basement and will remain there collecting dust until one day we come across them and use them to light a wreath or something :)
