What could possibly go wrong when hunting the rare North American Christmas Tree with your intrepid family?
Every year comes our annual Christmas tree hunting/stalking/butchering expedition to the North Pole. Because after all, it just isn’t Christmas until
- near death experiences have been lived
- tempers have flared
- marriage vows have been stretched and re-thought
- small children have cried
- large adults have cried
- and my Charlie Brown tree is safely kerplunked in my living room.
For those of you who enjoy killing the spirit of Christmas and making Baby Jesus cry by purchasing a plastic tree, I will pray for you. But oh sugar plum fairy, you are missing out!
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