O Tannen-bomb

Dear Laney,

This morning, we put on our coats and went for a walk to find a picture-perfect Christmas tree. Your dad became impatient about 8 minutes into this process. As I understand it, for Christmases past, your Grandma Sue would make your dad and Uncle Nate hike for hours in the deep snow as she looked for the tree of her dreams. Finally, she would point to an enormous tree and say, "I want the top ten feet of THAT one."

So you would think that your dad would be all kinds of patient when it comes to tree-hunting, but as it turns out - no. What he said was, "I'd like to get rid of that tree right there because it blocks the view of the mountain from the kitchen window."

...and that's how we chose our Christmas tree. Cue the chainsaw.

Your dad then hauled it into the house, where we started decorating it. I've got to admit, this is a project that went downhill in a hurry. When we suspected that the tree was turning tacky, we thought the right answer would be to add MORE stuff. This is never ever the right answer, but we thought that if two wrongs don't make a right, maybe 6 or 8 or 10 wrongs would make a tree. Nope.

Your dad took a minute to recharge while we forged ahead.

Now, behold our final product:

While it may look like a kindergarten project that earned a C+, I swear it's the result of two college graduates bringing their "A" game.

I know, I'm sorry.

Love,

Mom