On our annual trek to the local tree farm, we sought out the best–and biggest–tree
we could find that could fit on top of my Subaru.
The kids spotted “the tree.” Fifteen feet tall. And nearly 15 feet wide.
Kinda like The Griswold family tree. Where the top is so tall, it bends into the ceiling. Where the branches bust through a window.
Bungeed down on the top of my car, we were set. With that warm fuzzy Christmas feeling tingling in our toes.
As we drove off, we kept watch on “the tree.” Bouncing along, flop, flop, flop…and then slide, slide, slide…and then…
QUICK! PULL OVER, PIPPI! THE TREE IS SLIPPING OFF!
Folks. Consider this foreshadowing.
Whew. After the tree was rebungeed and anchored down, I proceeded to drive 35 m.p.h. all the way home. On the freeway.
Fast-forward to the top-heavy tree screwed into the teeny tiny metal tree stand.
Standing tall Leaning in our home.
Now, picture “the tree” attached with rope to our stairs. Ah, Christmas memories.
If only “the tree” would stop drinking so much water. It’s getting heavier by the day.
Yeah. That’s “the tree” right behind “the kids.”