Last month I joined Facebook (an online social networking thingy that’s oodles of fun and lets you keep in touch with your best friend from pre-school on the east coast) and have been putting weekly plugs in Nick’s ear to join as well. His worry: it might be too much work.
(It requires you to periodically check an online account and click a button that says, “Yes this person _______ is my friend.” CLICK. _______ is added to your friend list.
Nick still maintains this is work.)
I posted this picture on my Facebook account and entitled it, “The Christmas Problem,” and promised to name the tree after whomever gave the best advice on how to move forward. Here’s the background:
Nick and I were debating about fake vs. real trees. Of course we have completely different opinions. Nick grew up with the former. I grew up with the latter. I wanted the latter. Nick wanted the former. You can guess how this debate went. Finally, Nick said, “I just don’t want our house to burn down.” Apparently this happens more with real trees? I’m not sure of that, but it sounded pretty convincing so we decided artificial is the way to go.
So I’m out hunting for deals and spot the last 9ft. artificial tree in the window ON SALE! Of course, I can’t pass that down, so I put on my aggressive face and elbow my way to the counter. She tells me there are none left. Sold out.
I end up buying the display and am so proud of my timing and skills on the Super Tall tree that I speed home to show Nick our newest purchase. Not wanting to spoil my excited blabbering about my great deal, he smiles encouragingly and pats my shoulder. His eyes flicker a bit when I boast that it’s 9ft tall. “How’s that going to fit?”
I immediately think, “Well, you turn it sideways and walk through the door. Getting it in won’t be THAT hard.”
He sees my confused look and clarifies, “The ceiling. We probably don’t have 10ft. ceilings.”
No. (Take a look at the picture.) We don’t.
So, after a week of having a tilted tree, we ended up taking out the middle section so it now stands at a boring 7.5ft.
I never received so many messages via Facebook about The Christmas Problem. The suggestions ranged from cutting a hole in either the ceiling or floor to sawing the middle pole. Amazing how no one suggested taking out one section. That was my idea.
SOOOO, I guess I’ll name it after me: The Lisa Problem.