When Cameron was not running round with cakes in both hands, his other past time was stealing chocolate off the incredibly gay christmas tree. My granny picked the tree, unfortunately she must have had too much schnapps, as it was the most crooked tree I have ever seen. It was shaped like a massive Z and was lobsided with its branches. Pretty it was not.
As I let Granny do the choosing out of sight, my job was to haggle and pay. I thought the tree was to cheap to start off with, feeling full of Crimbo spirit I decided not to barter but hand over the full amount.
Normally we step back in wonderment when the tree is unwrapped, but this time, even three laps of the tree, from various viewpoints could not disguise the fact it was the runt of the forest. Beer gogles did not help either. Nor did mulled wine goggles. Double Martini goggles helped a bit.
The only thing left was to try and dress the tree up as much as possible. Unfortunately, my grannies decrations, er, were sparse to say the lest. The tree had one set of lights (from the 1950's, that had definately seen better days) , ribbon (????), and red plastic baubles which all had a dent in a side. Liberace it wasnt.
Granny said we were being harsh and that the tree was gorgeous. When we pointed out that every visitor we had who had seen the tree, said nothing, and started down at their shoes, that should have been some hint. Her response was that we should have supervised her selection process more.
Last years tree was too big ( needed 3 people to carry it), this years was a runt, next year's will be perfect.
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