I’m discovering that the criteria for purchasing a fake tree are probably pretty similar to searching for a new set of knockers. My entire life, I have always decorated a real tree on Christmas. I’ve been an all-natural kind of girl. I’ve always loved the smell. I’ve always loved the act of picking one out. It was a wonderful end of year ritual that signified happiness. After all, Christmas trees are each year’s beautiful, happy ending (keep your mind out of the gutter, please); right before I make a list of resolutions that I almost never keep.
My resolutions are like a list to Santa, after my name is already tattooed on the naughty side. A fine list, but nothing to show for it. Nothing to show for it, but the equivalent of a bag of coal (cellulite from forgetting the treadmill, but remembering the dark chocolate).
Hubs has always had fake trees. His brother was allergic to the real kind, so, each year, they pulled their beautiful, plastic tree out of a box. They put it together, instead of hauling it through the front door with pine needles trailing behind.
For the first 8 years of our relationship, hubs gave into my need to have a real tree. We would weather the cold on an evening after work, pick out the perfect $$$ tree, and then he would strap it to the top of our old car. We always used the old car because I didn’t want to scratch the roof of the one that my daughter would drive in 16, 15, 14, 13 and then 12 years. I drove my parents leftover, clunker for two years and so will she. Best to keep it as free from scratches, as much as possible, right?
This year, while talking to my mommy girlfriends, I discovered that they had all already decorated their trees and their homes were full of the Christmas spirit. Our house still looks like it does on any other month. Boring, and without the vibrant colors of Christmas scattered everywhere, to keep us warm-hearted during this cold season. Most of them had pulled their trees out of a box and didn’t have to worry about whether it would go from green to brown in only a few weeks.
I like a warm house. My blood is thin and I would rather have a warm, cozy house (we’re talking 72+ degrees here), than even a nice bottle of Cabernet. The fact that warmth has more weight than good wine during the late fall and winter, says a lot. Everyone knows how much I love my Cabernet. Hubs loves me, so he lives with the heat and just walks around in his boxers, year round. True love, I say. He complains less and less, each year we’re together.
The problem with buying a tree early and loving the heat is that it turns to brown in half the time, regardless of how much you take care of it. Not to mention, I’ve suddenly developed a conscience about killing trees for the sake of a holiday. So, this year, we decided to follow hubs’ tradition and buy a fake one.
We didn’t decide to go fake, until December 3rd. This is where the real, fake adventure began. Apparently, all of the fake buyers purchase their trees very early, maybe even before-Thanksgiving early. I now understand why Target dawns the Christmas displays after Halloween. They have a lot of early-shopping takers.
My boobs may be small, but they are 100% real. Mine are real, but I never judge others for doing what makes them happy. If you want fake boobs, then be my guest.
Well, I think I just had a glimpse into the world of searching for the perfect pair. All of the criteria are similar and the wait times are pretty much the same for the best implants, household or hot body. Questions I’ve had to ask myself:
- Do I want a big, heavy tree or a small, cute tree? If the tree is too big, I may have to buy more ornaments. (Do I want big, heavy knockers or little, cute knockers? If the knockers are too big, I may have to buy a whole new wardrobe.)
- Will the tree fit into our house? (Will the knockers fit nicely into a bra?)
- Does the display-tree look lopsided, like it could topple over? (Does the plastic surgeon’s work look like a collection of Tara Reid’s knockers or too heavy for my back to carry?)
- Does the tree feel like a real one or like pure plastic? (Will the knockers feel like sand or will a “feeler” be confused about whether they’re natural or man-made?)
- Are the colors of the tree natural looking or do they have frost or tinsel laced in? (Will the skin look natural after it’s all stretched out? How the heck does the Doc do that anyway?)
- Is the tree so good that it’s on back order? Will I have to wait until two days before Christmas to get it? (Is the doctor so good that I need to make an appointment a year in advance and hope I don’t have to cancel it because someone in the family gets the flu?)
- What type of tree do I want? Douglas Fur? Noble Fur? Purple pines? (Do I want to go with silicone? Do I want saline?)
- Do I want a prelit tree or an unlit tree? What’s the warranty on the lights? (Is the doctor going to fix my new knockers, if the saline seeps into my bloodstream? Should I buy tassels to show off my new knockers?)
Luckily, I only have to stare at the tree for 30 days a year and not be attached to it. But, damn, who would have thought picking out a fake tree would be as hard as picking out a pair of fake knockers. It’s a good thing hubs only likes his trees fake! At least that’s what he tells me and it’s in his best interest to stick with his story.