Benjamin wants me to point out why we haven't found a tree yet.
How about this one, bee?
It's too fat.
Too fat?
Yes, the branches. I don't want a Douglas fir.
Okay, what about this one?
Too fat.
It's a Fraser.
No, too fat around. It's wide. It will take up too much room.
This one?
Too pale.
What?
Has to be dark green. It's not dark enough.
This one?
Dry. Look at the needles that come off when I touch it.
So fresh, narrow, dark and small needle length.
Right.
Okay, here. This is the one. A Noble fir. Perfect height and everything.
No, that's too skinny. Like pretentious designer skinny. I want homey.
Okay. Bridget?
Yes?
Do you like any of these?
I'll know when I see it. What's your hurry?
Christmas is less than two weeks away.
Oh, you're right. Then we should probably pick one.
Yeah. Okay so which one?
Can we check that other place first? I'd really hate to get one of these and find out the ones at the other lot were perfect.
Does it really matter?
Yes. Christmas has got to be perfect.
Why?
Because last year was so hard.
His eyes filled up and he looked away for a minute. Then he spoke, clearly struggling to keep control.
We'll find one during the week, okay princess? It will be the perfect one. I think we're too tired tonight anyway. Let's go home.
He gave me a kiss on the forehead, not saying another word about how badly I need everything to be right for a while. He's the best Christmas present a girl could ask for.
