Sunday, March 6, 2011

A Christmas Story...not for the weak

I don't have to tell you that Christmas Season is way over...but I'm going to.  Christmas is over.  WAY OVER.  Christmas 2011 is 294 days away.  And although we are in the middle of St. Patty's Day celebrating, shamrock buying, green beer chugging, and parade watching, I'm going to tell you a Christmas story.  Our Christmas Story.  One that would only happen to us.

Every year at the beginning of December the hunt for "the perfect tree" is on.  CDitty and I scour Hampton Roads in search of an 8 foot, VERY fat, very beautiful, totally awesome Frasier Fir. 
SIDE NOTE:  Christmas 2009 was a total exception.  We got a Frasier Fir off the SALE RACK!  $15 for a "fat" tree, completely dead on one side.  But that's a whole different Christmas story.  One that happened WAY before I was blogging.

Back to Christmas 2010.  Having virtually no days off together, CDitty and I bundle Jack up one cold December morning and head out to find "the one", the decorative centerpiece to Jack's first Christmas.  The pressure was on because my family would be celebrating Jesus' birth at our crib (pun 100% intended).  We were in luck...at our first destination there stood "the one".  Although it hadn't settled and it's branches were still up we knew this was it.  The tree.  Jack's first tree.  Excitement set in as we merrily hauled our purchase home and placed it out back in a water bucket.  A few nights later CDitty and I spent the evening stringing lights and strategically placing ornaments out of the reach of our precious 2 legged creation.  We marvelled at its beauty, high fived, and went to bed.
Baby Jack bundled up and ready to find "the one"

**DECEMBER 20, 2010**

CDitty and Jack were playing in the Living Room.  I come down and am immediately "attacked" by CDitty and Jack.  I fall to the floor while they "get me".  While down on the hardwoods I notice a ring of dirt around "the one".  Hopping up I put on my detective cap, run to the kitchen, and grab a wet paper towel.  This dirt...baby spiders.  Not 1 or 2, but hundreds upon hundreds of BABY SPIDERS

Go ahead and read that last paragraph again.  Now let me back up.  Our perfect tree is up, decorated, and in our house for almost 3 weeks before POOF hundreds of spiders.  We spun (pun intended again) ourselves into total panic mode, then frantic clean up mode, followed by pest control mode.  I'm sure after the shop vac, swiffer, wet paper towels,and pest spray if any spiders were alive they were wishing they weren't.

Like straight out of a comedy Chris and I frantically all but poured pest spray over our tree.  Seriously, spraying in each hole, up the trunk, through the branches, around the stand, even the majority of the beautiful needles were covered in pest spray.  We were shocked the tree survived.  Heck, we were surprised we survived.

Why didn't I take the tree down?  Because it was Baby Jack's first Christmas.  His first tree.  It was beautiful.  It was decorated.  We spent FOREVER decorating it.  My family from Missouri was coming in town.   All selfish reasons, but despite the spiders I REALLY REALLY loved our tree.

Spider removal took 3 days.  Although I'm sure we killed them all on Day 1 WE I forced us to spray for 2 more days "just in case".  Day 3 we put the skirt back on the tree, put the presents back under, and pretended we were never invaded by baby spiders.

In true detective fashion I researched the daylights out of spiders and spider babies (thank god for google).  Chances are mommy spider laid her egg of approximately 500-1,000 (I repeat 500-1,000) spiders.  The tree was most likely sprayed with pesticide on a farm, cut down, hauled to Norfolk VA, purchased by us, decorated, and placed in our comfy house for 3 weeks.  According to google the baby spiders, not intended to hatch until the spring (warm weather), were tricked by our cozy house and surprised us December 20th.  Merry Christmas right?


I called and got our tree purchase refunded, but this Christmas story was definitely one to remember.  Going fake next year?  Not a chance.  I mean, seriously, what are the odds?

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