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Every Christmas Needs a Comedian
On the most important yuletide ingredient
The most joyous Christmas I ever experienced happened the year my daughter was 5 years old. It was the last year I spent as a full-time stay-at-home mom-dude. We were living in Washington State at the time and everything turned out perfectly.
With Mt. Rainier looming majestically in the distance, our little family got in our tiny car and drove to a Christmas tree farm. Normally, I am emphatically against the brutal murder of trees simply for the sake of a holiday tradition but that year I threw all rules out the window. I wanted my daughter to experience a full-blown traditional Christmas.
So I paid the farmer for a tree then our little family hiked through the snow to the acreage on which we were allowed to cut a tree. We wandered around a little searching for the perfect tree. We came to an area where all the trees seemed perfect.
That is when I stopped and turned to my daughter, “You know, your mother and I are not going to pick a tree. We think that YOU should be the one to pick it.”
Her face lit up, “Me? Really?”
“Whatever tree you pick is the one we’ll get.”
My daughter jumped up and down clapping her mittened hands. She then quickly turned to the nearest tree…
