A Fiber Optic Christmas

This year was different when it came to buying the tree. Instead of searching for the perfect pine to adorn our living room with needles, my family opted for a fake tree instead. My traditional Christmas tree allergies somehow convinced my dad to buy a fake tree this year....

Usually we began our search a week before Christmas when all the good trees were taken and only the bent-over, half-dead ones were left. Or we'd begin the day after Thanksgiving when we had our pick of the litter. The salesman would describe our new tree as "strong, healthy, and vital,"; of course it wouldn't last the week. I still remember that Christmas picture where I was standing next to the skinny, brown tree.

Since this year we were buying a fake tree, we could have began our journey in June and it would have not made a difference. Instead, we went two days after Thanksgiving in search of a fiber optic tree to dazzle our friends and family.

The first place we visited had a tall, smushed tree standing tall and proud against some fake snow. The saleslady bounced over to us and bragged about how great these trees were.

"About how long do these last?" my mom asked. "Oh!" she replied enthusiastically. "A long, long time. You can use it until you get tired of it, whenever that may be." My mom paused for a moment, and then re-phrased her question. "How long do the lights last?" The lady stopped dead in her tracks. "These are all the fiber-optic trees we have here. If you want to buy one, just take a slip, bring it to the register, and they'll load it into your car for you."

We never even thought twice about that tree after we left the store. We decided that we would take a trip up to another place about a half hour away and see their selection.

This place was a seasonal store that sold pools in the summer and trees in the winter. In between it had everything on clearance from the previous season. We walked in and smelled the wonderful, summery smell of chlorine from the nearby hot tubs. I chuckled at the Santa statue holding a sign announcing the huge clearance of hot tubs this week.

A salesperson pointed us upstairs to floor that looked like a winter wonderland. Trees to the left, wreaths to the right, and lights in between. My family and I walked over to the section labeled "trees" and started to look around.

I took a liking to a tree huddled in a corner. It was seven feet tall and glistened with "over 600 fiber optic lights". The price wasn't too steep, and the base of the tree was low enough to be covered by our traditional tree skirt.

I asked my parents to come look at it, but it was too late. They had already found a smaller, brighter tree that I was sure was going to go home with us. My dad was one to put up a fight, and gave a few good reasons why the tiny six-footer should be our tree.

We walked out of there; we never ever make any decisions without time to think it over. On the way home, I loaded my parents with an earful of reasons why the seven-footer should be our tree.

"The brightness doesn't count!" I exclaimed. "Sure it looks better, but you don't want a tree that screams 'look at me! I'm a fiber-optic tree!!' do you? And besides, we could have almost anyone over and they'll look like they can knock the tree over in one swing. You want a tree that intimidates you, not one that you can pick up without any effort at all."

Every time I found a good reason, it was shot down by another one. Brightness you can see from the window, we'll put the little tree up on something to make it look bigger, and finally, 'a tree that intimidates you?! This is Christmas we're talkin' about!' I was almost positive that I was destined to decorate a tree less than a foot taller than I was. I knew people in my class that were taller than that tree!

The next week we drove back out there to make our final decision. Of course we separately had looked at different places, but one thing we all agreed on was that this pool/tree place had our tree. We just weren't sure which one.

The store was closing in less than a half hour, so not many people were left. We wandered around and saw that the two trees were moved closer together. Only eight feet apart, we all could see that the seven-footer was the clear choice.

"So which one will it be?" my dad asked. "The taller one," I replied instantly. "Okay," he agreed. He caught the attention of a salesperson and asked him to get him this tree from the back.

I was shocked. I was all ready to put up a fight and slowly accept defeat, but instead I got the tree that I wanted. My dad must have been in an impulsive mood that was in my favor.

He went to go pull up the car and my mom and I went downstairs to pay for the tree. The items were thrown about from the busy day and the workers were becoming restless. We walked up to the register and showed them the slip.

A stout woman with wild black hair and large, square glasses was placed at the register. "We can't charge this here. You have to go around to the back and pay for it there when you pick it up." My mom sighed. "I'll have to go tell my husband to pay for it there." She walked out of the door and went around back.

While I was waiting, the woman stared at me blankly. Finally, she opened her mouth. "Did you hear about our Christmas hot tub sale? If you buy one, you get the tree for free." I nodded. Like my parents would ever go for that. Still, while I waited I imagined my life if I ever got a hot tub...

When my parents returned, I had the lady tell them about the great deal. Like I said before, my dad was in a very impulsive mood...

I like to think of my basement now as a mini pool/tree store. When I relax in the hot tub, even though its summer, I plug in my fiber optic tree...