Years ago, my nieces Abby and Haley visited my house a few weeks before Christmas and I had tons of decorations but no tree. Which sent them right over the edge-they were still deep into the whole Santa Claus thing and couldn’t figure out where in the heck Santa was going to put my presents.
“It’s no big deal,” I assured them. “I spend Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa, Santa will put my presents under their tree.”
And I thought it was over.
Because I didn’t have any children of my own and didn’t realize how tightly little girls can grip an idea…and how they can worry and stress and drive their parents completely insane.
But I learned…because about two weeks later, my brother gave me this tree. “Just put it up!” He ordered, clearly frazzled beyond endurance. “And be sure to tell the girls you did! Because if I hear anymore about the fact that you don’t have any place for Santa to leave gifts, I’m going to KILL SOMEONE!”
And I’ve put it up every year since…tiny little tree that it is.