Our recent string of misfortunes left us with a car approximately the size of a footlocker. Despite this, my dad instincts would not allow me to forego obtaining a tree of a size befitting Miles’s First Christmas©. With a winter storm approaching and limited time left between now and the holiday, I knew Saturday had to be the day — it was Christmas tree or bust.
With a tape measure in hand, I ventured out to find a tree that would fit into the backseat of the Toyota Yaris “EEEUHHHGGGHHH” that I’m currently driving. I didn’t know what the hunt had in store for me, I only knew that I couldn’t return empty-handed.
Ultimately, my labors proved fruitful — I found a tree in a box (it was fake, just in case you were still wondering) that just BARELY cleared the backseat of the car once I removed the baby’s seat. I could return home truly fulfilling my role as a provider.
And Miles couldn’t be happier. He is completely fixated on the tree. Ever pointing towards it, Miles silently commands us to lift and carry him to it, then grant him time to marvel at the myriad sights and, yes, even sounds of the fake festive foliage.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 