Oh Christmas Tree, Oh (Dumb Stupid) Christmas Tree.....

So. Every year since John and I have been married, and that's, um......well, we were married in 1980. You do the math. 

So ever since we were married, putting up the Christmas tree and it's lights has gone something like this:

John: How's that?

Perfect! Wait.....wait.....um. There's a big gap in the lights....right......there. 

John: Here?

No, THERE. 

John: Sigh. Here?

Yes, there. 

John: ::rustle rustle rustle rustle mutter mutter mutter:: Better?

Oh, yes. Much better. But, honey? There's another teensy little hole over your left shoulder. Left, honey. That's your right shoulder. 

John: Jul. Just a thought: Don't you think once you get all the tinsel and garland and twelve billion ornaments on this tree that nobody is going to notice where every little light bulb is on this thing?

Honey. Silence. 

John: Sigh. ::rustle rustle rustle rustle OW!!::

Honey? Are you all right? Honey?

John: YES. I AM PERFECTLY FINE. 

Oh, dang. I see where that branch poked you, honey. Sorry. Thanks so much, honey. I know you want our tree to look perfect just as much as I do. Right, honey? 

John: Oh, yes. Absolutely.

Right! So, now, if you turn the tree a little bit to the right.....no....a little less....OK, maybe just a teensy bit back....OK. Hm. I wonder if this thing is standing perfectly straight. Honey? Would it be hard to re-center the tree in the stand? 

And on and on and on and on......... 

I guess I never thought about my decorating diva tendencies until this year when John has been exceptionally busy at work, so my window of opportunity to snag him has been significantly smaller. I thought that this year, I'd just tackle this tree myself. How hard could it be? I thought.

Three years ago, we splurged and bought a boy-howdy fancy expensive pre-lit artificial tree. I thought it was a real beauty. And, for the last two years, we've loved that thing. John especially appreciated the fact that all of the lights were permanently attached, which meant that I couldn't ask him to fiddle and fuss and move any of them around, lucky man.

So John lugged the box down from the attic for me, and after he headed out for work, I stuck the thing together. And dug around inside it's innards for all the cords that attached the three sections. But no matter how I plugged and un-plugged and ranted and raved, the stupid thing refused to look anything other than this way: 

Pre-lit, my eye. Dumb stupid Christmas tree. And it's crooked.

When John came home for lunch, he took a quick appraisal of the situation and declared that either we replace all the lights which were permanently attached to the tree or we buy a new tree.

DUMB STUPID Christmas tree.

He headed back to work, promising me that he would box the dumb stupid thing back up and go out tree shopping with me later in the evening. After he worked late and then did some more work from home, poor guy.

So I sat with my coffee cup eyeing that dumb stupid tree mulling things over and came to the conclusion that I should save us both some significant money and time by just raiding our stash of Christmas lights in the garage:

John and son couldn't possibly notice a few strings missing amidst this mountain of electronics, could they? No, they couldn't. 

.....and throw the things on the tree myself. Putting the lights up on this tree couldn't really be that hard, I told myself.  So I snagged several boxes of white lights and dragged them into the house. After which I spent an hour or so re-living all the frustration that I have inflicted upon my dear husband for ...... (did anyone figure out how long we've been married?).....all these years.

Oh, man. The bottom needs some serious light re-distribution. And is that thing STILL leaning?!

I finally decided that once you get all the tinsel and garland and twelve billion ornaments on this tree that nobody is going to notice where every little light bulb is on this thing.

Hm. That sounds remotely familiar. Wonder where I have heard that before?