After the failure of last year’s Christmas Shrub (Gavin was right, it died), and the untimely death of the previous year’s Alberta Spruce (it froze solid when we put it outside), Gavin has flat-out forbidden me to bring home another live tree, and because we’ll be at his parents for Christmas, there is “no point” in buying one that’s been cut down.
I’d argue the one we’d cut down would be just as dead as the ones I’ve been accidentally killing, but somehow there’s less guilt associated with buying a pre-cut tree than killing it yourself.
So this year my MIL stepped in and has donated us a Very Small Faux Tree. It’s a little less than two feet high, and fits nicely on the table next to the TV.
The Mutant Attack Penguin (that was supposed to be an Angel) graces the top of the tree again this year, as do the little ornaments I picked up at Urban Outfitters our first Christmas together, my MIL has also provided a box scaled down decorations.
It’s small and cute, and can easily fit into a box, still completely decorated so it’s ready to go for next year, although Gavin says next year we’ll have a “real” tree (I think he means freshly cut as opposed to potted and doomed) because it’ll be “the Pudge’s first Christmas” and we should make an effort.
We’ll see about that.