“Let’s go get the Christmas tree!” I told Morella. “It’s downstairs.” She nodded in agreement and we headed downstairs. I immediately took her to the workroom where the 4 1/2 foot, artificial tree I got 9 years ago in Chicago was stuffed into an old garment bag. I lifted it up and gave Morella a small wreath that has seen four, full years attached to the front of our door to “help” me out. As we were going back up the stairs she started pulling out greenery from the wreath and then immediately discarded it by the cat boxes upon entering the kitchen.

I took the tree to the living room and about an hour later was able to start putting it up. I moved the coffee table by the window, moved a bookshelf out of the way and figured out how I could use a bungee cord to wrap the tree onto the top of the table so it won’t fall off. Athena then wanted to eat, so I sat down to feed her and instructed Tim to work on the tree.

He goes over by the tree and stands there confused. “What is this supposed to be?” he asked.

“Tree,” answered Morella. We all praised her marvelous powers of observation — “Yes that is a tree! Good job!”

He starts poking at the sad little tree. “Is this supposed to be the top?” He gestured to a lone stick of greenery, rising a good 10 inches above the rest of the tree. “And what is wrong with this branch?” He lifted up a branch that had broken off.

“Do you want me to fix it?” I asked.

“Yes because I can’t do anything with this sad sack of …. tree,” he said and dry washed his hands of the our Christmas Tree miracle. “Come on Morella, let’s go downstairs.”

I later reminded him that I had wanted to buy a better tree for the last several years but he always said “What’s wrong with the one we have?” Apparently, this year he can’t even recognize it as a tree.

Tim’s parents came later on to give Morella her birthday present, and said that they have four trees and we could have their six or seven foot one. Score! Only..how do we get it home? Hmm.

Anyway. Check out Morella’s latest toy bling — she has so many awesome things now. A kitchen. A car. A food cart and now this:

For the moment we are only using the tunnel. I think I’ll set up a tent or tepee later on during the winter when the car has lost it’s shine, or ran out of batteries.

I feel kind of bad for Athena. She’ll never need any toys or presents because we have everything that is awesome already by way of Morella.

2 thoughts on “

  1. Anonymous

    I agree that subsequent kids often don't need much new in the way of major toys, gear, linens, or early clothing. But they can still use new books, fresh art supplies, smaller toys, and clothes, accessories, and shoes that are special for them rather than being worn hand-me-downs.Morella and Athena are probably going to want their own collections of Strawberry Shortcakes, Barbies, My Little Ponies, etc. I know my sister and I were *very* certain about whose toys were whose. I could tell you to this day whether a particular Barbie outfit was mine or hers.-SECP

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