By Brian Gleize
I’m not sure if you caught the first installment about my family’s first Christmas tree experience (if not, check it out here, it is a doozy) but this is the story about the Gleize family’s ongoing struggle with live Christmas trees.
I started out our previous story with the line, “married to the love of my life,” and I’m pleased to report that this story starts out in year two of our marriage and we haven’t had any cast changes. When we pick up in year two, despite our first tree experience, we were still in the, “it has to be a live tree for Christmas” mode. So, we set off on the adventure that picking the perfect tree had become for the Gleize family.
Thankfully, we made it to the farm and back this year without issue. We worked hard to make this our best tree ever – which wasn’t too difficult considering what happened last year – and my wife was a happy camper. In our small suburban starter home, the tree sat in front of the back door, which also happened to be next to the dinner table.
A day or two passed, we were able to enjoy our beautiful tree at every meal. While eating dinner on or about the third evening however, there was a seriously annoying little gnat that kept buzzing around us while we ate. You know the kind, so small you think it’s a floating speck in your eyesight, just quick enough that you can’t swat it, but always there buzzing and flying into your face and your food. Well I took care of that little bugger; and we finished up another enjoyable dinner with our perfect tree.
The next night the gnat’s friends came for revenge. I did my duty and took care of the intruders, but the gnats came back again the next day and they meant business. They came at me in formation and there wasn’t a swatter made that could defend us.
We had to figure out where all these guys were coming from!
By now I am sure you know the answer to our dilemma. As our perfect Christmas tree thawed from the cold in which it had been harvested, it CAME ALIVE! When I went in for a closer inspection of the tree, the entire trunk looked like it was moving and crawling. It was just like that scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when they are all in the dark cave and suddenly realize that the walls are moving, and floor is crunching. Totally creeped us out.
Before thousands of little bugs could take off for another attack run, I opened the back door, unplugged the lights, and launched that perfect tree off of the back deck, into the freezing cold weather.
As in any good old subdivision the next-door neighbor (you know the type) just happened to be looking out of her window when I, all in a bug-filled rage, threw this decorated Christmas tree into my backyard.
Of course, concerned neighbor that she was, she made an impassioned phone call to my wife, concerned that the newlyweds had a blow up and that I had lost my mind; although I believe she already had that opinion of me before a tree flew out the backdoor of my house. Needless to say, after a little explaining, we all had a good laugh and it was another story for the record books.
Some how the next year we still went off on our adventure to cut a real tree. I guess maybe the neighbor was right and we had lost our minds. But to tell the truth there was no drama, no story to tell in year three. I’m still not sure if I’m grateful or not for that; the first two trees we had were stories we will never forget, and now I’m hoping you won’t either.