I pick the tree. When I loaded up the kids to go get the tree I asked them who had the final say on which tree we got. "You, Mom." They know.
Our tree is nice this year, but it doesn't smell. We got a kind we've never had before and I won't be buying one again. I thought Frazier trees were mild. This one hardly has a scent, which is disappointing. But I don't dwell on it to much. If I miss the pine scent I can go over to my parent's house. They got a Noble. Smart move.
We made cookies on Saturday. Just enough for a very minor decorating session. It was perfect.
My poor baby has a cough, so now I must end this post and go take care of him.
Cheers.
I haven't picked the tree for Christmas for so many years that I'm not sure if I ever got to pick one. As the kids were growing up, we decided to let each one take a turn as the years rolled by. But it really didn't matter whose turn it was, no one dared cross Elizabeth. Certainly not me. This year the kids weren't around, so Russ and I went out to get the tree, and he picked it. Something is very wrong with this scenario. Keep your place as chooser, Allysha, because once it goes, it's very hard to get back.
ReplyDeleteHa, ha, ha. I can testify that Allysha also had the corner on the tree picking market at our house for a number of years. When we go pick a tree there's always "lively" discussion. Of course, it's unacceptable to agree on a tree too quickly. I'm not sure who was responsible for picking the tree this year (it gets all muddled before it's over) but I think it was Christian.
ReplyDelete