the tree

The boys and I ventured out this afternoon into the 75 degree weather to find ourselves a Christmas tree. When I say ventured out, I mean we headed to our local Lowe's. The selection was sparse, you could even call it pitiful, but for goodness sake its the 6th of December and I wasn't going home without a tree. The man working the tree lot was helpful enough: during our conversation he called me "cityfolk," informed me that I was going to hate it here in Gilbert Arizona, and carefully pulled tree after tree out for my viewing pleasure until I found one that seemed suitable. Seemed being the important term here.
Our tree is not a suitable tree! It's close to being a total disaster. It leans to the right even though the trunk is straight, the real top was cut off at some point so it has this weird peak that sorts of juts (is that a word?) off in a random direction, and the left side is way fuller than the right. But I've come to terms with all of this. Because someone had to take home the tree- and why shouldn't it be us? Why is everyone on the quest for the perfect tree? I'm not perfect, my house isn't perfect, my life is so very far from perfect.... why should my tree be perfect?? I'm perfectly content with my crooked, strange looking tree. It fits in around here. Tomorrow- we decorate him.