(Photo stolen from this guy)
Here's to the single best Christmas tree excursion EVER!
Sunday after church and a quick stop at Longs for toothpaste and bribery loot (I had the girls with me), my daughters talked me into going to get the Christmas tree right then.
"But we were going to go this afternoon, after Daddy gets home," I reminded them. "Don't you think Daddy will be disappointed?" I pulled that last question off without so much as a smirk, though inwardly I was guffawing and making all manner of donkey noises.
"Let's surprise Daddy!" they proposed. "We can hide the tree and jump out with it when he gets home!"
Yeah, that'll happen.
"Okay!" I agreed.
After a quick stop at the ATM to extract the approximate Gross National Product of Albania, we headed for the high school.
(Stolen from these guys)
This year the Orland High School FFA are selling Christmas trees for a fundraiser. I'm happy to support the FFA, especially if I don't have to buy a live steer to do it, and besides, I thought (hoping against hope), the trees might be a little less expensive than the commercial tree lots.
It truly was a fundraiser, but I didn't mind. But I have never had such great service while picking out a tree! While looking for a 4-5' noble fir I was told by one young man that they were all sold out of that size. Bummer. I walked three feet further and was approached by a teenage girl who has a great future in sales. "How can I help you today?" she asked, and her steely gaze and forceful tone told me that "just looking" would NOT be an acceptable answer.
"Oh, well, we were looking for a 4-5' tree, but I hear you're all sold out --"
"Got one right here -- my last one," she said, reaching behind the tree to cut its tether in one devastatingly efficient motion. Swwoosh, PLUNK! And like a no-nonsense Vanna White the girl put the tree right in front of me, spinning it on its trunk for optimum viewing. Well, it was a pretty tree, even if it had a crook in the top and was a little patchy on one side . . .
"SOLD!" I screamed.
"Great, now which way is your car?"
"Oh, I forgot -- you think it'll fit in my trunk all right?" I asked timidly.
"I'll make it fit," she said confidently, and suddenly I knew she would. I was a teeny bit frightened.
After I shelled out $40, plus another $5 to the adorable child selling Girl Scout chocolate stuff, the super-efficient young high school woman hefted that tree to my car and into my trunk, gave me some twine for a tie-down, and sent me on my way. No fuss, no muss, no tears from the kids (although I came pretty close once), and we went bumping down the back roads toward home with a tree sticking out of our rear end.
All this in about fifteen minutes. A bargain at twice the price.
We hid the tree in the trunk, right by the laundry room door. Daddy found it, just like I knew he would.