Oh Chrithmath Tree Oh Chrithmath Tree

By Brummie Broad on Dec 23, 08 08:46 AM

I don't actually like Christmas trees. Yeah, bah humbug and all that. I just think they're a bit messy. Not that I'm a neat freak or anything, look round my house and the words that spring to mind are 'casual attitude to housework'. I just think they're a bit... well pointless really.

I threw out our old tree recently. I say old, but we'd only had it a couple of years. I just got sick of looking at the horrible thing.

Which meant we were bereft of a Christmas tree this year, and Middle Son - who thinks the world will stop revolving if all family traditions are not strictly adhered to - was coming home.

I did consider hacking off a branch from our apple tree, spraying it silver and tossing some baubles at it. But in the end I gave in to social pressure and Hubs and I set off to get A Proper Christmas Tree.

B&Q in Selly Oak had one box of broken lights and some sad balls in a pack. Nothing else. The Christmas department was empty, just tumbleweeds rolling across the empty space where it used to be.

Hubs and I looked at each other. "Think we might have a problem," I said.

"Don't panic," Hubs said, "Let's try Homebase."

Homebase only had real trees on the verge of death for £30. A twig in a pot cost £10, which of course put Hubs in a Yorkshire fury ("A tenner for a twig?" he kept saying).

I wondered whether to pick up some silver spray and glitter while we were there, but Hubs raced me back to the car.

B&Q in Mucklows Hill fortunately had some artificial trees. Unfortunately, they were all beyond naff. A three foot blue one (and yukky blue at that), a four foot brown one (surely a brown tree is a dead tree isn't it?), a pink one (kill me now). Skinny ones, tall ones, upsidedown ones (what genius of the tree world came up with that idea?), they were all pretty depressing.

We finally narrowed the sad offerings down to two - a four foot plum one (yes, plum) or a four foot black one. In the end we went for the black one because it suited my feelings about Christmas trees and seemed a bit gothic and rebellious.

It wasn't until we reached the counter that we discovered that all Christmas trees had been drastically reduced... except the black one. Story of my life!

As we hauled the expensive monstrosity out of the shop, we ran into Santa sitting in an Ikea chair outside the exit doors. "Ho ho ho," he bellowed, kicking at a collection box with his black boot. "Have you been a good girl this year?"

I leaned down close to him, peered into his rheumy eyes and breathed, "Well no, actually."

"Oh," he said, sounding a bit surprised that some woman who was still coming to terms with paying a berluddy fortune for a crap Christmas tree was invading his personal space. "Well maybe I'll bring you a little something anyway."

"Great," I said, tossing money into the collection box, "Make it a bottle of whisky will you?"

The tree doesn't actually look too bad covered in silver baubles. Its fibre-optic too, can't get more gaudy than that! I think I can probably live with it for a few days.

Whatever tree you find yourself staring at over the festive season, may it fill you with good cheer and joy - before you lob it back in the loft on New Year's Eve.