I don't understand all the hoopla around getting a live Christmas tree. It's already on its way to dying by the time you get it home. My kids always wanted a real tree. I think it was so they could smell the pine, or maybe it was the traditional fun they had when we went to pick one out every year. None are bad reasons for wanting a live tree. And we indulged them every single year because it was an easy way to buy their love. But, of course, there are many reasons for not wanting a live, dying tree. I mean, come on, we all know who cleans all those needles up after Christmas and who has to properly dispose of the body by trash day. Ho, Ho, Ho. It sure isn't Santa Claus. Give me a pre-lit mostly-real-looking fake tree any day. It still screams Merry Christmas To You, if you ask me. I figured my kids would grow up with fond memories and buy their own real trees for their own real homes and sort through their own clogged vacuums in due course. Right? No, they both got fake trees this year. And they love them. LOVE them. "Who needs all that mess?", they asked me. Oh, how much they'll miss.
