For some reason, I am a sucker for the tiniest of Christmas trees. When I spot the runt of the group while strolling through the Christmas tree lot, it's game over. Even if I try to ignore the poor thing, I feel like it's begging me to pick it, take it home, and clothe it in bling.
This year was no different.
The Hubby and I had walked through the entire lot, during which I had spotted the runt of the group. I kept walking, though (small victory). We decided on a decent size tree and were waiting for the guys to come bind it for us (bigger victory).
And then it happens...
I slowly look back over my shoulder at the runt.
My heart strings start tugging (and in my head, violins start playing).
Oh goodness, I can feel its pull on me.
I try to resist....oh gosh it's so hard....
It's so cute and lonely....
Suddenly, it has a face....a sad face...
No one is going to want it .....
It will be the last tree on the lot if I don't take it...
Then, the Hubby puts me and the tree out of our misery.
Ok, ok. I may have exaggerated a bit, but it really was the smallest on the lot.
I'm just thankful that there is a runt to love in every group. Jesus Christ loved the "runts."
xo, Caroline
I love your tree. I think the "runt" trees are the best ones.
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