AJ has decided that he needs a �Christmas tree IN MY HOUSE� as soon as possible. He seems to have noticed that we�re the only ones on the block without one. We always get a live tree and since my mom and dad are coming up for New Year�s for a belated Christmas celebration with their only grandson, we wanted to make sure the tree survives at least until then, so we opted to get one a little late.

The area where we live is full of Christmas tree farms and nurseries. There�s a place you can actually chop down your own tree a little over a mile from our house. I find this whole premise fascinating. You drive your car up, someone hands you an ax and a chainsaw and tells you to go at it. Does this seem like a good idea?

Last year we managed to scam one of those free trees IKEA gives out, by quite accidentally deciding to shop on the night they were delivered. But this year we decided that we�d embrace our new exurban lifestyle and do the cutting job ourselves, despite our complete lack of experience with the tools needed for the job. What's health insurance for anyway?

There is only one problem with this. It seems that Christmas trees are only for sale on weekends. It�s two weeks before Christmas. It�s a beautiful sunny day (albeit in the �teens, temperature-wise). We tell AJ he�s finally getting his wish and we�re going to get our tree. We all put on a million coats and hats and mittens and strap ourselves into our car. We drive to tree farm number one: gate closed and locked. We try another: same story. We drive around and around and around. We bring home a very sad little boy and no tree.

I consoled him with macaroni and cheese with noodles shaped like bunnies and by drawing a face on my index finger and having that finger, who has a very silly voice, read him all his lunchtime stories. Later, at his request, we drew a face on his finger too and they played catch and I-Spy together. This was such a huge hit with him, that after I put him down for his nap, I could hear him in his room, still talking to his finger (which he called �Happy Face�).

Another parenting job well done. Now if we can only find a damn tree.

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