Our Christmas tree fell off the roof of our car.
Things are rarely as I envision them, but this, this was a first. It rumbled, tugged, and then fell right off. Tree flying in the rear view mirror, Griswold, but not funny, not a movie. This has never happened and I of course wonder if it is some kind of a sign. Maybe we should just call it a year, climb back into bed with a few good books, and wait it out.
Every year we do the same thing. We get dinner out, go to the Moon Valley Nursery Christmas tree lot. They give out little candy canes. It’s fun, usually. We argue over the best tree, pick out a good one, and two strapping young men carry it to our SUV, hoist, and tie. We tip. We are good tippers, every year.
Once the deed is done, we go for coffee or warm drinks, although two of my children don’t like warm drinks which I honestly think is a failure somewhere in their upbringing, but that’s a different post. We drink, we are merry, and then we head home. Some years the tree sits on top of the car until the next morning, some years we take it down and at least get it in some water, but never, never has it fallen off the car while traveling north on the freeway. Never have we arrived home with cords broken and no tree.
I’ve probably waited too long, so I will say now that no one was hurt. The car behind us obviously did well in defensive driving school because he was able to swerve into the fast lane and avoid the 10-foot tree heading his way. We couldn’t stop, there wasn’t an exit, so I called DPS to report that our tree was in the center lane. The not-so-friendly operator told me she would send someone out. I almost think she thought I was joking, I wish I had been joking.
The rest of the way home I worried while my son was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “It’s not funny, what if someone doesn’t see the tree, hits it, and is injured right before the holiday,” I said.
To which my son replied, “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. The guy behind us avoided it. Everyone will slow down. No one gets hurt because they hit a Christmas tree on the freeway. That doesn’t happen.”
It doesn’t? Is that written somewhere in the 17 year-old handbook?
Because in my handbook, I hope we didn’t ruin someone’s holiday. I hope the DPS officer wasn’t hurt moving our stupid tree. We bought a Grand Fir this year, we usually go with the Noble. Maybe if we’d gone with the Noble this wouldn’t have happened? The guys that tied our tree did look a little young this year. Why didn’t we notice anything, it must have been lose? Is the nursery going to give us another tree, or will we have to pay for two trees? Those suckers aren’t cheap.
As if all of that wasn’t enough, I add a little crazy. I wonder if this tree, the one that fell off our car, was bad energy, or some kind of omen. If it was, what does it mean? Is there a message in this mess, something I should be learning?
All of this traveled the slippery roads of my mind before we even arrived home. “It’s the funniest thing ever, Mom. One of my friends just texted me ‘That’s so awesome.’ See, this is hilarious. Best Christmas story ever!”
Sigh…maybe I’m getting old.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Roll Over.