You are looking at my daughter’s Christmas tree selection.
And no, she is not a direct descendent of Charlie Brown.
In fact, her choice in Tannenbaum proves that the apple can in fact fall far, far, far from the tree… Christmas or otherwise.
Allow me to draw your attention to Exhibit B.
This is a photo of the Christmas tree I selected for our family.
You wouldn’t know it by looking at my daughter’s true blue love, but we are one of the 27 million American households that opt to buy a live tree for Christmas.
For decades I’ve shunned smug looks from artificial tree owners, who brag about how they have oodles of time on their hands, because they are not forced to spend hours on their knees sweeping up pine needles that regularly rain down on their floor.
Personally, I will happily pick up needles if it means I can enjoy the fresh smell of a live Christmas tree during the holiday season.
The battle between live Christmas tree fans and artificial tree lovers is one that is firmly entrenched in today’s society. In fact, some have compared the Christmas tree conflict to a civil war of sorts with infighting breaking out among family members living in the same house.
I married a man who shares my love of live trees, so you can imagine my surprise when I learned that we spawned a child, who not only prefers fake Christmas trees to real ones, but gravitates to artificial pines that resemble small blue toilet bowl brushes.
I blame a certain big-box retailer.
If it weren’t for their massive forest of fake trees, which sits directly across from the wrapping paper aisle we were navigating, I highly doubt my daughter would have fallen head over heels for “Blue.”
Yes, she named the tree.
And, yes, after 20 minutes of her begging and pleading in front of about 100 random Christmas shoppers, I caved and shelled out $15, so she could take “beautiful Blue” home.
The artificial Christmas tree I swore would never cross the threshold of any house in which I resided is now loving decorated and standing proudly in my daughter’s bedroom.
At least I won’t have to clean-up needles from that room.