The Tree

Remember when you were little and you helped decorate the Christmas tree? You would be so excited to put the ornaments on, but every time you put one on, your mom moved it and said "Honey, we need to remember to spread them out more...don't put two the same next to each other...there's already a snowman there, Honey...we need to put some near the top...don't forget about the back, and on and on and on..." and then you'd come home from school the next day and they'd all be moved to where she wanted them anyway? That always drove me crazy. I always thought "Jeez, Mom, can't you just relax? Does everything always have to be just so?"

Yeah, so last night, we decorated our tree. I'm not finicky, I said. I'm not as picky about this kind of thing as my mom is. It's their tree, I thought. I'll let them do it the way they want to do it. And here is the result.



If you come over to my house, please don't look at the top, right side, left side, or the back of our tree. There is a 2' radius of ornaments smack dab in the middle. In the front. And it looks ridiculous. And I tried to be quiet, but I found myself saying several times, "Avery, don't forget to space them out." Her response was always "I am, Mom. I know, Mom. I'm doing it, Mom."


It drives me crazy when I realize my mom was right.
(I'm moving the ornaments today, while Avery is at school. One day, in about 30 years, she'll know why.)