Oh Christmas Tree

MBW and I have owned our house for seven years. In fact, we just recently passed the official seven year mark from the date we officially closed on our house in 1999.

In the front yard of our home we have a Colorado blue spruce evergreen tree. It’s a wonderful tree, and this time of year it is a picture-perfect Christmas tree. We strung lights on it the first year we celebrated Christmas in our new home, and it looked great. It wasn’t that hard to get the lights on it because it was only about eight feet tall. With a small ladder I was able to get lights around the tree all the way to the top.

But that tree has grown substantially over the past seven years, and each year it’s gotten more difficult to put Christmas lights on the tree and make it look decent.

This year I talked about not putting Christmas lights on that tree. It’s gotten too big, I told MBW. Let’s do something else this year.

Chris and Tommy would have none of it.

“Dad, you have to put the lights on the tree!” said Chris.

“Please, dad, please do the tree lights!” said Tommy.

“It’s your call,” said MBW, smiling.

Remember, this is not the indoor tree we’re talking about. This is the outdoor tree in our front yard, the Colorado blue spruce that is now about fifteen feet tall. It has gotten so big that this past summer I had to trim back the sides of the tree to keep it from extending into the driveway and over the sidewalk.

But apparently Chris and Tommy have grown attached to having lights on that tree at Christmas. It’s a part of their Christmas that, for whatever reason, is important to them. So what kind of dad would I be if I let them down at this very special time of year?

So the Saturday after Thanksgiving I assemble my gear. I get out the big ladder, the box of Christmas lights, the extension cords and the electric timer. Get my leather work gloves on and go to work.

I’ve never had a problem putting up Christmas lights. Every year I read stories of people who have all sorts of problems getting their light up. I laugh in haughty delight at all you lesser beings who struggle with so simple a task. Please. It’s simple. Get your act together and stop whining. How hard can it be?

So there.

Master of this task that I am, I open the box of lights and spread the tangled mess onto the front lawn. It takes about 20 minutes to untangle the six strings of multicolored lights. Every year I swear I’m going to a better job putting the Christmas lights away so I won’t have this problem the following year, and every year I don’t do it. When I take them down this time…anyway, with the lights untangled, plugged in and laid out carefully across the lawn, I replace all the burned out and broken bulbs. On the lawn, with all six strings (25 lights per string) plugged in end-to-end, all the bulbs are lit up. It all works. I think I’m ready to go.

Chris and Tommy are watching this intently. They’re very excited. This process, decorating for Christmas, makes it real to them. Santa will be coming! Lots of toys!

“Get going, dad!” says Chris.

I unplug the lights from the extension cord and begin to wind them around the tree. The bottom six feet of the tree is easy. I walk around and around the tree laying the string of lights in place. It’s going smoothly. The string of lights plays out quickly – will I have enough to reach the top of the tree?

The next few feet are harder. I have to reach over my head and place the lights without really being able to see what I’m doing. The string of lights gets all tangled up, so I have to stop, unplug what’s left from what I’ve already strung, and sort it out. A bulb breaks in the process, and I have to replace it.

Tommy asks, “What’s taking so long, daddy?”

Grrr.

Finally the remaining lights are untangled, the broken bulb replaced. I go back to the tree, plug the rest of the lights into those already on the tree, and continue. I’m reaching as high as I can, standing on my tip-toes, running the string around the tree. Soon I can’t reach any higher, so I set the lights down and get the ladder.

Now it gets tedious. I place the ladder, climb up, lean into the tree and place a few lights, climb down the ladder, move the ladder a few feet, and climb up again. Over and over, round and round, up and down. The higher I get, the more unstable the ladder, which is leaning into the tree, becomes.

Before I get even close to the top, I run out of lights.

I climb down the ladder and Tommy asks, “Are you done, daddy?”

“No, Tommy,” I say, “I’ve run out of lights. We need to buy more.”

Last year six strands of lights were enough. Not this year.

So off to the store I go, buy two sets of lights and more replacement bulbs, and return home. Chris, Tommy and MBW are having lunch, so I join them.

After lunch I go back outside. Chris and Tommy follow and take their seats on the front steps. They watch as I get the ladder and a hockey stick. I take one of the two new strings of lights, find the end of the last string already on the tree, and reach way, way up over my head to try to plug the new string into the line. The ladder is feeling pretty shaky…but I get the connection made.

I climb down, move the ladder a few feet, grab the hockey stick and climb back up. Now I’m using the hockey stick to lift the string of lights way up to the top of the tree. Round and round, up and down, over and over. Reaching way up high with this ridiculous hockey stick, trying to gently place these lights on the small boughs near the top of this tree. The lights keep slipping off the end of the hockey stick. It takes multiple attempts on the shaky ladder, but finally I get the last few bulbs strung. It reaches almost to the top.

Wearily I climb down the ladder, put away the hockey stick. Chris says, “So, dad, are you done? Can we turn them on?”

“Sure,” I say, “let’s plug them in and see how they look.”

It’s still mid-afternoon but we have to see the fruits of our labor. I plug the extension cord into the wall, bring it out to the base of the tree, plug in the seven strings of beautiful colored lights I have strung up the tree, and…

Nothing.

The lights are not on. Not a single one.

You’ve got to be kidding.

I fiddle with it for awhile, checking each connection to make sure it’s tight, check to make sure to extension cord is plugged securely into the outlet, check to make sure the breaker inside the house hasn’t tripped. Everything checks out okay, but the lights won’t come on.

I begin the process of pulling all of the lights back down off the tree. Once they are down, a tangled mess, I separate each stand of lights and plug them individually into the extension cord. Five of the seven are working, two are not. I assume the fuses for the individual strands have blown, so I replace those. That must have been the issue as they are both now working.

I ponder the problem for a moment, then head back to the store to buy two additional extension cords and two multi-outlet breaker-protected power strips. I swear the clerk is laughing at me. As if she’s never had this problem! May Santa leave her a lump of coal this year.

I get back home. The sun is starting to go down. What a lovely day we’ve had. Wearily I run the extra power cords from different outlets around the house out to the tree, hook up the multi-outlet breaker-protected power strips and test everything one more time. It works. Imagine that! Now all I have to do is run the lights around and up the tree once again, making sure to connect no more than two strands together and make sure no more than four strands are running off any one outlet.

It’s almost completely dark by the time I’m finished. The lights are up yet again. The cords are plugged into their respective multi-outlet breaker-protected power strips. With bated breath and fingers crossed I plug the multi-outlet breaker-protected power strips into the individual extension cords and…

The tree lights up.

Thank God.


Chris gives me a mock round of applause. MBW and Tommy come out to take a look, nod their approval. At last the task is complete.

As I’m putting away the ladder and hockey stick, MBW says, “Now it’s time to do the tree INSIDE the house.”

Chris and Tommy say, “Yeah, Dad! Let’s do the inside tree! Can we help you?”

Smiling back at the boys, I say, “You bet! Let’s get started!”

But I’m crying on the inside.

It’s great to be The Family Man.