I always loved Christmas trees, and there’s nothing like the smell of a freshly cut evergreen to evoke those memories. Two miles down the road, we had the same kind of tree twinkling away at our own house. I remember unpacking the ornaments as a child and greeting them like old friends. We had fancy ones people gave as gifts, and handmade ones we made in school.
I asked my mother once if we could get silver tinsel icicles, having seen them at a friend’s house. The answer was a firm no. I recall some disparaging remark about them getting all over everything.
Imagine then, if you will, my face when my newish husband came in the door of our house one day in 2003 and announced he’d bought a Christmas tree. The tree he presented was made of silver tinsel. In a box. That he bought at Urban Outfitters. For $19.99.
He’d bought a fake tree.
There seems to be a mistake, I thought, about whom, exactly, I have married. He’s a fake tree person?
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