This is a repeat from a few years back but it's the story of how we get our tree and it's the same every year: When did it become December? How did that happen? No, seriously, HOW? A few days ago I asked the teenagers to walk out into our woods and get our Christmas tree (in an overly wooded area that needed trimming anyway, I swear!). No one wanted to.
So I go off on a hike, pouting a little, and come home to find all the teenagers standing in the driveway, fully geared up (it was snowing like a mother), fake smiles in place. I asked them what was up.
"We're going to help you find a tree," was the unanimous answer. More fake smiles.
I looked at Alpha Man, who was also geared up, his saw in hand. Not talking. "This your idea?" I asked him.
"No," the teenagers all said in unison. "It was ours. We WANT to go snow shoeing through five feet of snow to get you the Christmas tree you want."
I looked at Alpha Man again but that man never cracks. I decided not to press the issue and into the woods we went. Teenagers grumbling under their breath. I started with Middle, cornered her. "Dad making you do this?"
Such a cute little liar. I trapped Youngest next. "Just tell me how he got you guys out here."
"He took our phones," she said, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
By this time I didn't care how he'd gotten them out there, I was just happy to all be together, a family, hunting for a tree. It was so sweet. Minus the three fights over which tree, the two fights over mysterious snowballs in the back of heads and the biggee ... what were we going to eat for lunch.
Sometimes I think family togetherness is overrated.