Last Friday, I rushed home so that Danny, Emerson and I could go pick out our Christmas tree. It had rained pretty much all week, so we were taking opportunity where we could get it, especially since rain was in the forecast for Saturday and Sunday. For the past seven years, we have gotten our tree from Scott's. (We actually get out pumpkins from them for Halloween as well.) Emerson was very excited to go pick out our Christmas tree. She has pretty much been excited about all aspects of this Christmas this year. Holding Emerson's hand, we headed toward the trees to start searching for just the perfect one, when all of a sudden, we came to a standstill. Emerson's heels dug in the ground like a bulldogs and she wouldn't budge. She spotted the fake, blow-up Santa that was sitting in his chair waving and she wasn't moving one more inch. I had to pick her up to walk past him. We eventually got closer and closer to him, eventually touching him and even hugging him but it took awhile to get there. (Emerson was very leary of Mall Santas last year but this year she has seemed more interested, especially since you have to tell him what you want for Christmas so he can bring it to you. We will see how it goes when we attempt a "Mall Santa" this weekend.) We walked around the entire tree lot until we found the perfect tree and until Emerson approved of it. We think we found a great one...smaller than some of ours in past years, but it fits in our living room corner perfectly. You can see it on display Monday when I participate in The Nester's Christmas Tour of Homes. Check back Monday for The Dever's house tour.
March on to Great Flash Fiction….
1 day ago