Thursday, December 06, 2007

The Tree

We went to buy a Christmas tree yesterday.

The first lot we stopped at had a clean-cut young man sitting on the bed of a pickup truck. He was so clean that he squeaked.

"These are nice trees," Gloria said as we walked through the tent.

"No way," I said. "We're not getting a tree here."

"Why not?" she asked.

"This guy isn't a tree carnie," I said.

"A what?"

"A tree carnie," I said. "The people who work at tree lots every year that have tattoos, look like they haven't showered in a week, and sleep in a trailer. They chainsaw the trunk and bag it up in a minute. They know the lore.

Christmas trees have lore?" Gloria asked.

"Only if you're a tree carnie," I said.

We drove to a second lot, walked in, and started looking at trees. Gloria whispered "tree carnies," and I nodded.

We bought a tree.

On the way home, Eli 6.4 got several chances to indulge in his new hobby--posing for pictures as we pass the payment lanes on the tollway. He thinks that the little flash of light when we pass the through the toll tag lane takes a picture that someone will be looking at later. This means that he poses in the most ridiculous way imaginable every time we pass a toll both.

Actually, he's got all of us doing it now. Just in case.

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