A tree is dead. A little girl whispers to the survivors. A family rejoices with chocolate.

Our annual Christmas tree hunt was a huge success.

One dead evergreen and an afternoon of fun.

We began our adventure by ensuring that Charlie was dressed for a possible Antarctic blizzard, despite the 40 degree temperatures and clear skies.

Upon arriving at the Christmas tree farm, Clara became intensely interested in the tiny trees, referring to them as “little baby trees” and having short but intense chats with each one, often ending with, “See you next year.”

Little kids are so weird.

Once I killed our tree and strapped its carcass to the car, we stopped for some hot chocolate and eggnog.

Great fun was had by all.

 

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