So you might remember last weekend we set out to find the perfect tree. Well, look what that "perfect" tree led to.
And what does a pan of burnt sweet potatoes have to do with the "perfect" tree, you ask?
Well, on Wednesday I finally got around to decorating it. Ryan, Noah and I turned up the Christmas music and got to work. We were having a great time, and the tree was just about finished, when all of a sudden, while my back was turned, it fell on top of me! Noah was standing on a chair right there, so thank God it didn't fall in his direction.
It was a little before 6 p.m., and I knew Kel was due home soon. After I calmed the boys down, I tried to figure out if I could somehow hold it up and fix it at the same time.
Ummm....yeah, that wasn't going to work.
My next idea was to try to have Ryan hold the tree up while I fixed it in the stand, but he was not strong enough to hold it up.
So, with all my ideas producing nothing, I decided to stand there and hold it up until Kel got home. I had already put my sweet potatoes in the oven and could smell them starting to burn, so I had Ryan turn the oven off, but obviously they had to stay in there. As the minutes ticked slowly by, I tried to convince Ryan that this was not, in his words, "the most terrible tragedy ever!" We talked about how blessed we were to have a home instead of being outside in the 4 feet of snow. We talked about how warm we were inside. We talked about the wonderful dinner we were going to have. I'm not sure he was convinced, but I definitely tried.
Finally, 25 minutes later, Kel walked in the door. His first comment had nothing to do with the fact that I was holding the Christmas tree up, but that something was burning. I think there is something in here about being a master of the obvious, but not quite.
Anyway, we got the tree back up, swept up the broken ornaments, threw out the blackened sweet potatoes (I couldn't even salvage one), and had a late dinner.
The tree was standing, and all was right in our world.
Until we came home from swimming last night to see this...
Actually, Kel and Noah had come home earlier, and when Ryan and I walked in the door, Kel was sprawled out beside the felled Christmas tree calmly eating a bowl of cereal. You know...priorities.
After Ryan was in bed, we cleaned up the mess...again. I like this picture. It is what your family room would like like if a drunk Christmas tree threw up on it.
And now, the tree is standing, with every single heavy tool my husband owns sitting on top of the base, so it will stay right where it is.