Tools and Trees Don't Mix

When we last left our little heroine, she had just gotten home with her dad and her shiny new Christmas tree. We parked around the side so we could drag the sucker to the back porch in order to trim those pesky unsightly and droopy limbs at the bottom of the tree and put it in the ever-popular plastic tree stand. Dad went bargain-basement on the tree stand, as well as the tree. This, I believe, was the standard Walgreen's tree stand--plastic and resembling a headgear Devo may have worn at one point. It also had three very sturdy metal pieces that were designed to screw into the tree and hold it in place. Theoretically.

Dad trimmed the bottom of the tree and whittled it down best he could with his handy hand saw in order to fit it into the stand. We screwed in the screws, we stood up the tree, we shoved it through the sliding glass door and, suddenly, Christmas appeared in my living room. It looked good and smelled better. The only thing left to do: cut the cords bundling the tree tightly together so we can see what it really looks like.

*Snip* Needles flew across the room. The tree was lovely. And there appeared to be two of them. Because Dad didn't pick a tree with just one trunk. No. Dad picked the Wishbone Tree.

It split about a foot and a half up the bottom of the trunk into two minor trunks. It looked like a really big, bushy wishbone. But, it was standing, and it was...bushy. So we made some minor adjustments, put the water in the stand and Dad started to leave.

"Remember, let it soak in some water before you start decorating."
"Okay, Dad."

And off he went.

So I did what all young women of a certain age and no live-in boyfriend do--I got on the phone. I don't recall who I was talking to. Or what we were talking about. I can only imagine we were rehashing events of the night before, because I also seem to remember not being terribly coherent during the whole tree-shopping fiasco. Otherwise, I would have put up a bigger fight about picking a random tree from a random tree pile and giving Omar, King of the Michigan Gypsies ten of my hard-earned dollars.

So I'm on the phone, in the kitchen, when I hear, "Whooomp."

That couldn't be good.

I waledk into the dining area and there, to my surprise, was the tree. Lying on the dinner table. Leaking dirty warm water onto my cream-colored carpet.

The tree, being rather...unbalanced, took it upon itself to tip over into the dining area and onto the table. I swore, hung up the phone and ran over to prop the tree back up against the wall. Got back on the phone.

"Mom? Can you send Dad back over?"

By the time my father made it back to my house, the tree had fallen the other way, into the den, and leaked dirty water all over an entirely new and pristine area of cream carpeting.

I was rather hysterical by this point.

Dad dragged the tree back out onto my back porch and began sawing with a vengance. In his mind, the tree simply wasn't balanced correctly. This, however, could be changed, if he managed to carve the trunk into exactly the right configuration to balance the tree perfectly in the Devo tree stand. Which was plastic, as I stated before, and had absolutely no weight to it.

Dad sawed. And muttered. And muttered. And sawed some more. I started watching television. I'd check on him every so often but, really, this was a Dad project and he didn't need meddling. Meddling leads to cursing and cursing leads to crying and then Mom would get involved and that was never a good thing.

I finally went out to see how he was doing.

"What's up?"
"I think I've just...about...got it!"

He gave one last tug on the saw. He'd been sawing progressively higher and higher up the trunk, in an effort to get to the right balance point. And then, yes, he finally got to the point--just not the one he was hoping for.

He pulled the saw out and the tree...split in two.

We were left with two half-trees. It broke exactly at the point where the trunk split apart. They would have been perfect, if we were to nail them up. He tried to convince me to use the slightly-bushier half and just turn the naked side against the wall.

I just looked at him.

He bought me a good tree the next week. And a heavy-duty tree stand. I've never had a problem since.