J had to teach a lesson at home, I had to teach two lessons at H---n, and we needed to pick up a Christmas tree. It was going to be a low-stress sort of Friday.
We've been playing up the Christmas tree thing quite a bit over the last few weeks for James, and he's finally been getting into it. He visited Alexa the other week, and she has a Christmas tree up at her house. When I picked James up I asked her if she had set up the tree with her Mommy and Daddy.
"No," she whispered "Santa."
Alexa has the most baleful deep brown eyes that have ever appeared on a child, and I think that for a second I believed her.
We loaded James into the Neon carseat and scraped the car off. This is not as easy as it sounds. First of all, the Neon is small car, and James is very heavy. Whenever you put him in the carseat, you have to hold a wriggling thirty pound bundle while stooping over and trying not to bonk either of your heads, and since it's been snowy out he usually gets you both soaked in the process. He also has developed a great love for brushing/scraping snow off the car, and he is deeply upset when you don't let him take part in the process. (I promised him that when he's a teenager he can scrape my car off every morning, but he doesn't want to wait that long.) So, I put him in his carseat while he wiggled and shouted and kicked snow all over me, and then scraped off the Neon and also scraped off the PT Cruiser, which we needed to drop off for some tire service.
That part of the trip went fine--it was starting to snow pretty heavily and traffic was bad, but the tire place is just down the street from us, as is Mt. Wegmans, which was our second stop. We picked up lights and ribbons for our tree--James, won't decorating the tree be fun?--and said hello to the train as we puttered around in our race-car shopping cart. He dropped George in the muddy parking lot on the way out, so George now has a filthy stain on his face as well as backside and paws. (Separate incidents.)
I loaded James into the car (and got us both soaked) again, and we drove to the P---d Farms Dairy, where a Christmas tree vendor was selling trees, stands, and festive woodcarvings. It bothered me to be purchasing a Christmas tree from someplace other than Hu-Lane Farm, where my grandparents have sold Christmas trees my entire life. I spent many winter breaks working there for them, helping to bale and load the trees or to clean the Christmas shop. More than anything else, the smell of wreaths and cinnamon bread in the front of their barn evokes the Christmas spirit for me. My cousin K has taken over the operation starting this year, but between the bad weather setting in and a hectic orchestra schedule next week, we agreed that there was no way we could make it all the way out to Albion and back to keep our Christmas purchase in the family.
We arrived at the Dairy and unloaded James into the snow. There was a dog and two cows outside, so he was immediately pleased. I looked at the prices on the Christmas trees, and was not. The cheapest trees were $65, and the tree stands would cost another $40 on top of that. Also, there was a big "cash or check only" sign up front. We had maybe $50 between the two of us. I asked whether there was an ATM in the dairy, and there wasn't. J and I huddled and talked through our options, and James began to cry as he suddenly realized how cold he was. We went into the dairy and used my phone to look up other sellers. There was a Boy Scout stand 20 min south of us in H--e Falls which I knew sold cheaper trees, and we decided to try our luck there.
J bought a latte while James ran around the Dairy and tried to touch all of the pies, and we received news that J's student had cancelled. "All we need to do is get this tree, and then I'll be done for the day!" she told me.
I picked up the snowy wriggling bundle and loaded him into the car again. The snowfall had turned from heavy to very heavy, and the rural roads to H---e Falls were completely coated with no signs of a plow. I could feel us slipping on the snow and ice, and J asked if I wanted to turn back.
"No," I said "We've worked all morning to get this blasted tree, and we're going to bring one back with us and have fun doing it!"
James was decidedly not having fun at this point. He wasn't crying, but we heard a lot of whining from the backseat as I crawled along in the snow and tried to keep my windshield clean and some sense of where the yellow lines might be.
When we finally arrived at the tree stand James immediately spotted a playground on the other side of the square. He was begging and reaching for it before we'd even unbuckled him. J told him maybe we could visit the playground and say hello once we'd picked up a tree? "Don't you want to help Daddy pick out a tree?" she asked. James just pointed to the playground and made more beggy whines. There was no one at the tree stand, but someone put up a big sign that read "Weekday shoppers please leave payment in the drop box outside the Scouthouse." The prices were much better, and in no time I'd found a suitable tree to load into the trunk of our car.
I threw it over my shoulder, and (proudly remembering the tree-hauling days of my youth) carried it back to our car where I was promptly informed that I would have to return it and select another. So, I threw it back over my shoulder and put it back where it came from, then found another tree and took it back to the car. (Have I mentioned that we were parked rather far away--the fond recollection of doing this when I was younger wore off very quickly.)
Meanwhile, J had attempted to take James over to the playground to "say hello"--this is Momspeak for "not actually play on any of the playground equipment since it is covered in snow" and they didn't even make it all the way over before James completely melted down. It was snowing so hard that they were both coated, and James was sobbing enormous two-year old tears. She loaded him into his carseat--and got soaked--and then we set about trying to load the tree in the car.
We opened the trunk and discovered it was full, of course. <2 year old screaming> There was a huge black trash bag filled with clothes we'd intended to take to Salvation Army, as well as a roadside kit and a box full of miscellaneous auto junk. I moved the trash bag to the backseat next to James <2 year old screaming>, which ripped in several places while I moved it, and he immediately protested it being next to him. We collapsed part of the backseat to slide the tree through, and pushed it as far into the car as it would go...and there was no way that the trunk would shut. <2 year old still screaming>
We both began digging for something to tie down the trunk, and I eventually found something small and elastic in the salvation army bag of clothes. The wind was blowing, the snow was everywhere, James was still screaming, and when J found that I was trying to use a thong to tie down the trunk she immediately yanked it away and put it in her coat pocket. I walked back up to the tree stand and rooted around in the muddy snow until I'd found a length of baler twine--we really could have thought some of this through ahead of time--and then came back to the car, where James was still screaming and I managed to tie down the trunk.
J had started the car and blasted the heat for James, who was still screaming. I walked over the scouthouse with forty dollars and found no evidence that there was or ever had been a drop box there. And that was how we stole our Christmas tree.
Eventually we got home and brought the tree upstairs, where it is currently leaning against a wall, since we forgot to buy a tree stand. James eventually stopped crying on the way back, and seemed to feel a lot better after he had a grilled cheese sandwich and some juice. I felt very good about getting the tree inside, even though it isn't set up, and after I left a message for the Boy Scouts inquiring how I might pay them, I went back out to close the trunk and discovered that the latch was broken, requiring a call to the locksmith. J, as far as I know, still has a thong in her coat pocket.
And that is the story of the 2013 Christmas tree.
UPDATE:
A locksmith repaired the back of the car, and I went to teach at Hochstein. I told J I'd pick up a tree stand on the way back. I went to the P---d Plaza and struck out at Rite Aid, Michaels, Bed Bath and Beyond, TJ Maxx, and Wegmans before giving up and coming home. The tree is still tied up and lying in the corner of our apartment. If we think we can survive it, we'll make another attempt to go out and find a stand tomorrow. Also, here is a picture of James on the trip back:
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