When I was a little kid, one year we had a live Christmas tree. It was small, but alive! And therefore more interesting. We decorated it but not too much, and strewed the presents around it, and it was different and fun that year.
Afterwards, we planted it in the front yard. I even helped dig the hole although I was too small to be of any great use. I got to learn about evergreens, and about planting trees, and I got the cool lecture about how big trees come from small plantings.
Twenty years later, the tree towered over the house in the front yard. Finally achieving its true purpose, it reached down with one long sinewy taproot and ripped out our sewer, costing us thousands of dollars and tremendous frustration and inconvenience.
And that’s my Christmas story.
Be My Blog 
That’s the most beautiful Christmas story I have ever heard. You even got to work poo into it.
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12 Days of Christmas
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+1 for the Jews.
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Oh. My. God.
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Your user icon simultaneously scares and arouses. On second thought, no, it just scares.
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That’s my sister you’re talking about. How dare you.
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Tell us the one about how Santa Bob hid the presents in the walls when he moved out of the terrible apartment, Uncle Fester!
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It just wouldn’t be Christmas without the dull distant explosion of rotted ground beef inside the drywall!
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So THAT’S where the roast beast went… Take that, you freakish Whos!!!
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