The trouble began when my kids started pining for a REE-AL Christmas tree.
“I like our tree,” I say, defending the artificial tree we bought 10 years ago so I’d never have to slow dance with a sticky sap again.
“It’s not natural,” they say.
“It’s the perfect shape.”
“It smells like a hair brush.”
“Its branches bend so you can hang ornaments anywhere you want. Its needles don’t drop. It never needs water.”
“It looks like a department-store tree.”
That’s their final insult, which I actually take as a compliment.
“OK,” I relent, “as long as we put up two trees.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
When we heard the neighbors were heading to the mountains to chop down a tree, we bought a tree permit for $10 and went along. I pictured a Norman Rockwell scene: rosy cheeks, woolen mittens, wives looking adoringly at brawny husbands cheerfully pulling the felled trees back on wooden sleighs. Uh, not. We had my mother-in-law along, who insisted she was up to this, then had to be airlifted by the men, both up and down the mountain, all the while saying, “I’m fine! I’m fine!”
Every one of us — except Grandma, thank goodness — fell at least once, getting snow in our pants and ears. The teenagers oozed apathy while couples argued over tree flaws.
“That one has a bald spot,”
“So do you.”
“I want bigger.”
“If you want bigger, you’re going to have to haul it back yourself.”
Ho, ho, ho.
We set the tree up in the basement.
“Where are the ornaments?” the youngest asks, as if they should magically appear.
“We need to get some,” I say.
“Let’s use the ornaments you won’t let us put on your tree.”
“Those are cast-offs for a reason.”
“Mom, some of those are ornaments we made!”
“And I’ve saved them,” I say, as if this earns me some mom award. “This is your tree, but I draw the line on any ornament that has Popsicle sticks, Polaroids or pipe cleaners.”
“Way to be sentimental.”
“Now, we need a tree theme and a color scheme.”
The girls look at each other and cross their eyes, which they do when they think I’m sucking all the fun out of something.
“We need guidelines.”
“No, we don’t,” the oldest says.
“The theme can be fun, and should reflect our family.”
More eye crossing.
I dispatch them at the Christmas store: “Find a theme you both love.”
“How about a Santa Claus theme?” one says.
“It’s your tree, but perhaps that’s a little overdone?”
“Angels?”
“Uh, a little cliche, maybe?”
“Teddy bears?”
“Trite, no?”
“A horse tree?” Suggests the oldest, the rider in the family.
“I’m allergic,” says the youngest.
“How about a shoe tree?” I say, lighting on a cool ornament of a stiletto. Now I could get into that.
“Mo-om,” they say.
“Right, it’s your tree.”
More themes fly — stars, butterflies, birds, snowmen — followed by head shaking, curled lips and wrinkled noses.
As I begin rummaging through my purse for headache tablets, the girls light on a batch of jungle ornaments.
“Awesome,” says the oldest.
“They’re soooo our family,” says the youngest. “Look, there’s mom!” She points to a toucan.
We collect lion, monkey, zebra and tiger ornaments, mixed with round glass balls painted in leopard and cheetah prints. A bronzy rust and black color scheme emerges.
At the checkout, I spy little jars marked “Tree Scent.”
“What do you do with this?” I ask the checkout lady.
“You stick pieces in your fake tree to make it smell real.”
“Do you have any fragrance to stick in real trees to make them smell fake?”
She looks at my kids. They cross their eyes.
Syndicated columnist Marni Jameson is the author of “The House Always Wins” (Da Capo), available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble. You may contact her through .
Decision tree
Still stumped over the choice between a real or fake tree? Consider these pros and cons.
Environment. Artificial trees get reused every year, so they don’t go to landfills. But some people (not me) worry about the polyvinyl chloride in these trees, a potentially harmful, nonrenewable, petroleum-derived plastic. Tree-hugger types may want to save live trees and not chop them down, but, according to the U.S. Forest Service, cutting trees helps forests. Removing smaller trees limits the intensity of wildfires and helps surrounding trees grow. That strengthens the ecosystem and provides a home to a greater diversity of wildlife and plants. Bottom line: Both are fine choices.
Cost. If you can’t cut your own tree from a forest, you’ll likely pay north of $40 for a real tree. In some areas, or for a larger tree, you’ll see trees prices north of $100. Artificial trees cost more initially, but, over time, you save.
Longevity. Fake trees never die, so you can put them up on Thanksgiving and leave them up through New Year’s.
Decorating advantage. Good artificial trees are a tree designer’s dream because you can put the wire branches just how you want them —no bald spots.
Safety. Artificial trees are fire-retardant, but a well-hydrated real tree is also fireproof. Most Christmas-tree fires don’t start because of dry trees, but because of overloaded light circuits. Rule: don’t piggy back more than three strands before grounding to an outlet.
Still can’t decide? Try one of each.
