Have you ever noticed how, for many families it seems either you are a solid 'real Christmas tree' family or you're 'artificial tree' all the way? In my little family, we've waffled back and forth over the years (real shocker if you knew us at all...Insert dripping sarcasm here) before settling on our official stance. Following is a comical look at how we got there. 
The year is 2002 and we're preparing for our first Christmas as a married couple. Let me just say, married life in general...BIG transition to say the least, but that's another story for another day. I, of course, am adamant that we get ourselves a real tree, so off we go to the various tree lots in search of the most perfect tree ever. The details on this part are a little fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure we ended up going to a few different lots before we found the tree. P.S. Two novices should not be allowed to go tree shopping together. I had gone with my dad every year while I was growing up to pick out the family tree, but he's the one who paid attention to the details - not me.

Now before I dive any further into this story, let me clue you in to a conversation we had while at the tree lot. Me: "We're gonna need to get a tree stand." Husband: "Eh, gramma has like 20 at home, we don't need to spend money on that." Me: "Okaaay...If you're sure..." (Thinking to self: If she has 'like 20 at home,' what's wrong with them???)

Okay, so fast forward to getting the tree home. The tree proceeds to go in and out of our house at least three times. Yep, you read that right THREE times. With each passage in and out the door as we (by we, I of course mean he) work on the most crooked tree trunk in the universe, the frustration levels are mounting. Finally, we get enough trunk cut off so that it can stand in our free tree stand. Guess what...There's a reason it was in the garage and not being used for a repeat performance. Oh yeah, it fell down. *sigh*

A new tree stand is purchased. 

I can vividly recall as we're wrestling with this tree saying, "I wish my dad was here," and promptly going to the bathroom to cry it out. Now, the total irony of that statement is that things didn't necessarily go all that smoothly with my dad over the years. I remember many a time he was cursing over the stupid, er, beautiful  tree. Apparently, though, I had blocked all of that out. So there I am, crying my eyes out in the bathroom, poor Husband is probably thinking this isnot what he signed up for - and seriously..."Why is she crying??" Enter my sister. My beautiful, thoughtful sister comes over with a box of ornaments for our first Christmas. I make my exit from the bathroom trying not to look like this entire experience has been complete misery. Good times.

The evening ended well, with feelings mended, and a ginormous pizza delivered from Pizza Hut, but it's an experience I will never forget, and that we uproariously laugh over now.

We did give the real tree a try again a couple of years later, but that darn thing fell over too, and we decided, enough is enough and have embraced our artificial tree in all it's easy-peasy glory ever since. Our greatest source of debate now is an annual argument over getting the lights on the tree. I am so challenged. However, nine years into this marriage, gone are the tears - they've been replaced by laughter up front instead of later.

I'd love to hear your stories! Leave a comment below!