The DMZ on the Christmas tree

My wife has always put up her Christmas tree the day after Christmas.  If we were doing a family trip over Thanksgiving then I suspect that we’d have to stop somewhere, purchase a tree and take it back home with us.  “Sweetie, they sell Christmas trees back home”, I’d say.  She’d then remind me about how pretty the house looks once decorated and that a Christmas tree from hundreds of miles away would only add to the beauty of the house.

So we decorate the tree the day after Thanksgiving.    Entering into a relationship with this decorator was quite the change for me.  Many years ago, it’s possible that I’d have a tree, but it wasn’t guaranteed.  I always had green things growing in my place, but it was not garland and may have required a plastic suit and gallons of white vinegar.

Now, I’m a father, clean often, have a great son and decorate the day after Thanksgiving with my wife.  To boot, we have three Christmas trees that are put up in the house.  Imagine a vegan suddenly owning a bacon factory that sells leather gun holsters in the gift shop.  Now, franchise that business, call it Bacontopolis and that’s along the lines of the paradigm shift that single men go through when adapting to decorating. 

Our Christmas tree is very pretty.  Last year when Baby Mojo was just a couple months old we put him in his little Santa suit, laid him under the tree and were in awe of the miracle of life.  This year we’re still in awe of the miracle of life and are hoping that our Christmas ornaments don’t meet an untimely death at the hands of a roaming toddler.

To help our main tree not become a deciduous ornament bomb for little Mojo, we moved anything breakable to a level higher than two feet.  He’s still attracted to the tree.  It is amazing to watch as he just walks around it, laughs, points, pulls off one of the unbreakable ornaments and tries to crush it with Hulk like rage.

My wife, intent on keeping up three trees in the house, also put up a tree in the playroom.  “Give it a shot, I can move it during the week if he goes after it”, I naively said.  That tree stayed upright for about 10 minutes.  Like a moth to a flame he immediately went over and pulled, pushed and then the tree was moved to our bedroom.

Yup, now we have a Christmas tree in my bedroom.  My wife was correct, it is pretty and I’m thankful that we didn’t have to let that tree age hundreds of miles.