After digging through old Christmas photos last week, I’ve been counting down til I could share this one today. I’m not sure if this story coincides with the exact year this picture was taken, but it certainly took place in the same house/location (which is saying a lot considering the number of different houses we lived in growing up!).
Anyway, our living room in this house was nice and open, but there wasn’t a natural spot to put up our Christmas tree. So it ended up behind the front door right at the conjunction of our bedrooms. Like every year, Dad got the tree set up in its stand, we hung our ornaments while eating thumbprint cookies, and topped off the night by adding the angel on the very top. Done deal.
Then in the middle of the night, there was this crash. And I don’t mean the kind of crash like someone got up to get a midnight snack and dropped a plate in the kitchen. I’m talking about a LOUD, glass-breaking, wake-the-whole-house-up, something’s-bad-wrong kind of crash. All I remember after that was Dad leaping out of his and Mom’s room, hollering at DM and I to stay in our rooms (thinking someone had broken in). Low and behold, the Christmas tree had just fallen over, scattering ornaments and lights all over the living room. There was no need to shoot anyone that night.
The next day, the tree got put back up and rigged with fishing line for the remainder of the holiday season. So here DonMark and I are, sitting in front of the tree on Christmas morning. Like I said before, perhaps the same year this happened, perhaps not, but do take note of the angel about to fall off the top of the tree! Happy Friday!
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