Sherri, “What’s the matter?”
Me, “He said it was a white-light tree!”
I looked in the box and then back at my 15 year old tree, then back at the box, then back at the old tree… a few times.
Would I be so ungrateful as to reassemble this 15 year old tree that I’ve just torn down? Ugh. I’m going to have to see this client again. And he’s going to be all, “So! How do you like the tree!?” I should have known he was a multi-colored light man…
Sherri interrupted my thoughts, “What’s the matter with you? It’s a beautiful tree! It has pinecones!”
Stupid, multi-colored lights are going to look terrrrrrrrrible with my candy cane theme.
I looked back at the old tree.
Me, “Should I put the old tree back up?”
Mentally, I had reached The Great Wall of Crazy. Never in my wildest dreams had I considered that a man wouldn’t know what color his own Christmas lights were. (This is going on my list of differences between men and women.) To say that I felt stuck would be an understatement. For crying out loud, I had just disassembled a tree that I had decorated TWICE! And it wasn’t even December! And I didn’t even like the stupid, new, fancy tree! How could my life have come to this!?
Together, both Sherri and Brian decided to do an intervention. And by intervention, I mean that they bullied me into putting up this horrible tree.
So there I was. Three Christmas trees under my belt before December… and extremely annoyed.
I hated that tree.
At the beginning of the work week, I recommenced the telling my pathetic Christmas saga. The greater issue now was not peacocks versus candy canes. It was white lights versus multi-colored lights. And you know, most women sympathized with my plight.
One woman in particular not only sympathized, but offered a solution.
Client, “Do you NEED a new tree?! I HAVE a pre-lit, white light tree! We have two trees; we only need one. Same thing. If you want it, you can have it. Just come pick it up.”
Me, “Are you SURE it’s a white-light tree?” (I’m not sure if I had tears in my eyes, but I think they were in my heart.)
Client, “Yes. It’s a white-light tree.”
Me, “Give me your contact information. I just have to figure out how to convince my husband that we need one more tree.”
Apparently Christmas trees are my drug. And I needed one more fix.
To be continued…