i recently decided i absolutely must get myself in the christmas spirit. so, i went out and bought many many decorations, twinkle lights, and even [my very first] real christmas tree. after 23 years of the same fake christmas tree my mother alwaysalwaysalways chose to reside in the corner of her living room right into the month of February. clearly, i have no experience in the choosing of the lucky Douglas Fur that shall litter my clean floor with pine needles and waft the smell of pine and sap throughout my little townhome-like atmosphere. So i chose the first one i decided to like. It was a done deal when the Christmas-tree-salesman-wearing-scary-flannel-from-the-90s told me it was a Douglas Fur. So I took my little Dougie home with me. Got it through the door juuuuust fine, and then attempted the process of standing Dougie upright in my own living room. What i failed to notice is that Dougie is of a gargantuan[umm sp?] stature at 7 feet tall.
My ceiling is apparently only 6 feet tall.
These are the things that occur when short people fail to realize that everything/one generally is usually much taller than we think.
CRAP.
so, i immediately transformed into Macguyver, got my carving knife out (scissors are way too small for this job) and shaved the top of Dougie's head off.
and now, i have a decapitated christmas tree.
poor dougie.
tonight, i shall adorn him with twinkle lights.
