Story 567: How Many People Does It Take to Put Up a Christmas Tree?!

            (In the living room of a house, a large crowd has gathered)

Father: (Standing at one end of the room to address the multitude) All right, folks, it’s time to get serious: we are putting up the Christmas tree today, and this year, we’re doing it right.  (Slices open a large cardboard box filled with tree parts) Now: (Points to the box) tree – (Points to several more boxes on the couch) extra lights – (Points to many, many other boxes piled throughout the room and spilling out into the hallway) ornaments and winter wonderland paraphernalia.  I want everything up and twinkling, sparkling, or otherwise holly-jollying within the afternoon before even the thought of dinner crosses anyone’s frontal lobes.  I will not have a repeat of last year’s debacle, where the so-called “Easy Peasy Twee Tree” that was guaranteed to be up and running in 10 minutes, instead took seven-and-a-half hours, thanks to multiple unauthorized breaks and other shenanigans that will no longer be tolerated.

Child 1: But Dad, the game was on!

Father: (Faces Child 1 with unleashed wrath) I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE GAME.

Child 1: (In breathless horror) Heresy….

Father: (Back to the rest of the crowd) This beauty is pre-lit and the extra lights are back-up only, so no excuses that all the strings were tangled or one bulb was burned out, understand?  (The others nod) OK, I think that covers everything: let’s get to it!

(Everyone scatters to assemble the tree and decorate the living room and any other area that can fit a knickknack)

Child 1: (Digging through mounds of tissue-paper-wrapped ornaments in a large container) Can I put the star on top?

Child 2: (Holding the bottom section of the tree as Father attaches the upper layers) Is it a star this year or Santa?

Father: (Finishes attaching the tree parts and moves on to plug the lights into multiple outlets on a cord) Neither: this year we’re putting the light-up angel on top if I can find where to plug it into the other end of this thing.

Cousin: (Holding up a nutcracker soldier) Where does this fella go?

Father: (Stringing garlands around the tree) Anywhere you find an open space!  (Cousin shrugs and plops it onto the dining room table)

Aunt: (Hanging a handmade ornament on a tree branch) Aw, I remember when one of you kids made this in art class; you were so little and cute then, how long ago was that?

Child 2: (Taking ornaments from a box at the top of a ladder) Thirty-six years.

Aunt: ...Well I sure feel old now.

Uncle: (Taps Father on the back and holds up a train engine when the latter turns around) You want me to set up the tracks around the tree; next to the tree; nowhere near the tree; what?

Father: (Adding a string of very old bubble lights around the tree’s center) Those can be set up in the corner where you got the boxes.

Uncle: Got it.  (Goes back to the corner to secretly play with the trains)

Father: (Steps back to observe the others work for a bit) Good-good, but we need to step up the pace if we’re going to get through all these boxes at a decent hour.  (Flips the lid off another one and flings ornaments wrapped in tissue paper onto a nearby armchair)

Neighbor: (Holds up a small box) Want me to start hanging up the candy canes?

Father: (Looks up suddenly) Not now!  They go on at the very end, no matter what!

Neighbor: (Gently sets the box onto a small table) OK.

Father: (Hands over a box from within the larger box) Here: you can hang up the ornaments from in there, but make sure you keep them close together on the tree because it’s a theme.

Neighbor: (Whispers to the box while going to the tree) No pressure….

Mail Carrier: (Holding a smaller box while methodically hanging ornaments on the tree) You know, this takes me back to when I was a wee one –

Father: (Hooks legs halfway up the ladder and dangles upside down to reach a tricky open spot on the tree) LESS YAPPING, MORE DECORATING!

Mail Carrier: Rude.

Priest: (Arranging a tableau of snow families and elves on the coffee table) I feel obligated to ask if there is a nativity scene tucked away in all this… Christmas?

Father: (Still hanging upside down; holds a branch in mid-swing to reach an inner alcove in the tree) Uh, yeah, that.... Sorry, no room at the inn!

Priest: That’s certainly the ultimate irony.

Father: (Manages to slither into the tree and surveys the room from there, moving aside overburdened branches to look; spots a few loafers sitting on the couch) I want every single person in this house putting up decorations at all times until I say we’re finished, do you hear me?!

Mother: (Passing through the living room with a cup of tea and a book; stops in front of the tree and glares at Father’s eyes through the branches) I beg your pardon?

Father: Not you – the outdoor decorations count as time served.

Mother: How generous of you.  (Continues onward to the bedroom to hibernate)

Father: (Sees an empty space inside the tree, reaches an arm out to pluck an ornament from a nearby box, and whispers while hanging it onto the tiny spot on a branch) I have you now.... (Scrambles out of the tree once that is done and checks everyone’s progress) Hold it!  (Everyone freezes while Father walks around the tree and checks the entire surface area, muttering all the while) Over forty years of ornaments; candy canes; extra-extra lights…. (Stops to face the tree from the front) I think the tree… is done.

Fellow Bus Commuter: (Holding up an angel) Wait a minute, what about the angel?

Father: (Gasps in horror) The angel!  (Grabs it out of Fellow Bus Commuter’s hand, frantically climbs the ladder, finds a free plug, attaches it to the angel, and shoves it onto the top of the tree) All right, light it up!  (As Father climbs down the ladder, Child 1 plugs in the main power cord and the tree glows in welcoming warmth; Father stands back and stares at the tree, moved to tears) We did it, we actually did it, it’s done and it’s not even night yet –

Child 2: (Holds up an ornament) Hang on, I just found one more that must’ve fallen out earlier –

Father: I SAID IT’S DONE!

Story 521: Freeloading Christmas Party Guest

            (In a house full of Christmas trees, blinking lights, Nativity scenes, and snowpeople of all shapes and sizes, party guests eat, drink, and merrily finish preparing the main meal and all its side dishes)

Guest 1: (To Host) I know I’m stuffing my mouth with five different types of cheese right now, but I do mean it when I ask “Do you need any help?”

Host: (Pulling three trays out of the oven while stirring a pot of sauce with an elbow) Nah, I got it – but if you could light the burners under the racks for these pans, that’d be a big help!

Guest 1: (Stares at Host tossing the trays onto the racks and then whip up a salad out of thin air) …Sure, I think I can manage that.

(In the living room, guests stand, sit, and play according to age level when the front door suddenly bursts open)

Freeloader: Hey-hey, everybody, I made it!

Guests: Heyyyyy….

Guest 2: (Takes Freeloader’s coat and pointedly stares at the latter’s empty hands) Soooooo, anything that needs to be put in the fridge or out on the table?

Freeloader: Nope, just me, eh-heh-heh-heh!  I need a drink.  (Grabs an iced tea from a cooler, piles up a plate of appetizers, and sprawls across the couch, bumping a few guests aside) Coming in for a landing, folks!  (Guests move to the other side of the couch; Freeloader finishes the plate, tosses it and the iced tea onto the coffee table, and takes a nap)

Host: (Enters the living room with arms full of cups and cutlery) Dinner’s ready!

Freeloader: (Immediately wakes up and zooms to the dining room) Dibs on everything!

Host: (Sways in Freeloader’s wake) I didn’t even know you were here yet….

(After dinner, as many guests as possible pile into the kitchen and shuttle back and forth from there to the dining room to pack up whichever food is left, wash dishes, pots, and pans, and make room for dessert)

Host: (Carrying a tower of leftover containers; to guests) Oh really, this is such a big help –

Guests 1-20: Not at all!

(In the living room, Freeloader dozes in preparation for the after-dinner nap as several children rambunctiously play)

Freeloader: (Chuckles) I love how rowdy children are always someone else’s problem.

Child 1: (To Freeloader) I was told that when I reach double-digits, I have to take my place in the dish-drying line.

Freeloader: (Eyes close) Good for you.

Children 2-8: As must we all.

Freeloader: (Eyes open wide; Children 1-8 are standing in a row facing Freeloader, who then jumps while seated and looks up at the ceiling) Whoa, was that Santa’s sleigh landing on the roof just now?

Children 1-8: SANTA, YIPPPPPEEEEEEE!!!!!!  (They all run to their respective parents and beg to go outside)

Freeloader: (Leans back on the couch) Almost too easy.  (Turns head against the cushion to gaze fondly at the gently lit tree, then notices a tabletop Nativity scene nearby.  Squinting, Freeloader sees Baby Jesus in the manger, staring soulfully and gently accusingly back.  The two stare at each other as sweat beads on Freeloader’s forehead, until the latter can take the silent judgement no longer, jumps off the couch, and runs to the kitchen) Wait!  Save me a pot to scrub – a potato to wrap up – anything!

(Guest 2 and Guest 3 emerge from the corner they were watching from the whole time and follow)

Guest 3: That was a good idea, but I thought Baby Jesus isn’t supposed to be in there until Christmas Day?

Guest 2: What can I tell you?  He works in mysterious ways.

Story 421: The Joy of Wrapping Presents

 DECEMBER 23

Friend 2: (Answers the phone while baking cookies) Hi – what’s up?

Friend 1: (On the phone while walking through a beyond-crowded mall) Oh, not much: just doing my annual last-minute holiday shopping, same as the rest of the world here with me right now.  (Waves to the crowds)

Crowds: (Waving to Friend 1) Hiiiiiii!!!! (Resume frenzy)

Friend 1: You done with your shopping yet?

Friend 2: Hanukkah was over three weeks ago this year, so, yeah.

Friend 1: Right.  Lucky.

Friend 2: Also lucky you and I don’t exchange gifts – one less person to shop for.

Friend 1: Best present ever.  I should be done here in another three hours, but the mall closes in two so everyone’ll just have to take whatever I wind up with by then.

Friend 2: That’s the spirit.

Friend 1: (Passing by a card store) Shoot, I just remembered I also have to get more wrapping paper and bows and all that garbage – maybe four hours.

Friend 2: Why not just get gift bags for everybody?  Then you can throw whatever gift in there and fluff some tissue paper around it and that’s that: minimal effort involved.

Friend 1: Ugh, who wants all gift bags?!  That’s the lazy way out – Christmas unequivocally requires tearing apart massive amounts of paper and high-tensile ribbon to reveal the glory within.

Friend 2: If you say so.  Might be easier on you, though – I’ve seen your wrapping in action, and it’s not pretty.

Friend 1: What?!  I know how to wrap!  (Teenagers passing by start to lay down a beat; to Teenagers) Not “rap” – (Holds up all the shopping bags) “wrap!”

Teenagers: (In realization) Ohhhhhh.... (Move along)

Friend 2: You may know in theory, but the reality has a bit lost in translation.

Friend 1: I’ll show you!  I’ll show ALL OF YOU!

Friend 2: Who else are you talking to?

Friend 1: You know – The World.

Friend 2: `K, I’ll let you get to it then – bye.  (Disconnects the call and leisurely starts a new batch of cookies while humming) I love this time of year.

Friend 1: (Scrambles to put away the phone, dropping every other bag) I hate this time of year!

Mall Loudspeaker: Attention, shoppers: the mall will be closing in 30 minutes – we ask at this time that you please begin to get out –

Friend 1: WHAT?!  (Drops the remaining bags while scrambling to look at a watch) HOW DID I LOSE TWO HOURS?!

Parent: (Passing by, surrounded by small children) Very easily.

 DECEMBER 24

(In apartment, Friend 1 is sitting on the living room floor surrounded by gifts, wrapping paper, bows, ribbons, gift bags, tissue paper, tags, and a pen)

Friend 1: Right.  Start with the biggest one first.  (Grabs an asymmetrical package) Well, no one’d actually expect this this to be wrapped.  (Dumps it into a large gift bag, writes on the tag, and crams a bunch of tissue paper into it; nods in satisfaction at the end result)  Right.  Next!  (Grabs a rectangular department store box, measures the paper, cuts, and tries to cover the box but did not leave enough paper for that) Grrrrrr – no, no, mustn’t flip out, I can use the paper for something else, we’ll just try again.  (Measures the paper, cuts, and tries to cover the box but did not leave enough paper for that) GRRRR – OK, skip the box, this’ll be a great gift bag, too.  (Dumps the lump of cloth that was in the box into a large gift bag, writes on the tag, and crams a bunch of tissue paper into it; nods in satisfaction at the end result) Right.  Next!  (Grabs a smaller box) OK, can’t mess this one up, right?  (Measures the paper, cuts, and fits it perfectly around the box) Heh-heh-heh-heh – (Reaches for the tape and realizes there is none) Son of a – !

 ONE HOUR LATER

(Friend 1 returns from the local office supply store, slams the front door shut, rips off coat, hat, and gloves, plops back onto the living room floor, rips open the tape box, and inserts the roll into the dispenser, grumbling the whole time)

Friend 1: (Taping the perfectly wrapped box) If one more person gets in my way – I did not cut you in line, you tried to cut me – whoever designed that parking lot hates people – maybe if you put your shopping cat in the conveniently located corral like a decent human being, it wouldn’t have hit both our cars later – (Finishes the tag and views the box) Ah?  Ahahahahaha!  I did it!  Take that!  (Takes a picture of the wrapped gift and sends it to Friend 2; typing) “In… your… face….” (Sends the message and tosses the phone to the floor) Saying I can’t wrap – maybe you can’t wrap.  (Starts on the next gift and receives a message notification)

Friend 2’s Message: Fluke.

Friend 1: (Angrily typing) “Who… asked… you?!”

Friend 2’s Message. (Several seconds later) You did.

Friend 1: (Angrily typing) “Leave me alone, I need to wrap presents for my loving family!”  (Tosses away the phone)

Friend 2’s Unread Message: You’re ridonkulous.

(Friend 1 wraps the remaining gifts in a whirlwind of activity – most of the packages have crooked seams, barely meeting edges, bulging sides, multiple layers of paper to cover bare sections, and bows, ribbons, and tags anywhere and everywhere)

Friend 1: (Stands up on cramped legs, surveying the disaster) Well, they’ll just have to like it or lump it.

 DECEMBER 25

(At Friend 1’s parents’ house, the family tears apart the hours of wrapping to reveal the glory within)

Friend 1: (Wearing a new fuzzy sweater over pajamas) Well Fam, another good haul this year – I thank ye.

Mother: Yes, thank you both, now let’s clean up this mess.

Father: I’ll get the trash bags.  (Trots out of the living room, brushing wrapping debris off of clothes on the way)

Friend 1: (To Mother) I have to ask: honestly, does my wrapping make you ashamed to call me your child?

Mother: Oh honey, why does it even matter?

Friend 1: It’s been brought to my attention, and by asking why it matters you’re revealing that it does.

Mother: (Laughs and hugs Friend 1) Sweetie.  (Pulls back) You’re being ridonkulous.  (Grabs several gifts to start putting things away)

Friend 1: (Stares at the brightly lit and overly decorated Christmas tree, then looks over at the nativity scene on the nearby table; addresses the newly added Baby Jesus) I guess we should all be thankful I don’t have to wrap you.

Story 370: All the Ornaments Must Go on the Tree!

 (Sibling 2 walks from the car to the house while carrying a heavy cardboard box and kicks the front door several times)

Sibling 1: (Lazily opens the door) Heeeeeeeey, look who’s breaking and entering!

Sibling 2: Cute – mind if I drop your garbage in there now?  (Holds out the box)

Sibling 1: Oh yeah, sure.  (Opens the door wider to let in Sibling 2, then locks seven different bolts after closing it)

Sibling 2: (Drops the box with a crash onto the living room floor) Crime here that bad?

Sibling 1: Hm?  Oh, no – habit.  (Dives toward the box to rip it open and noisily rummage through the contents)  You got everything?

Sibling 2: (Strolls over to the almost-fully decorated tree) Pretty much; I had to leave the one with your huge baby photo plastered on Santa’s sleigh behind, `cause Mom wanted “at least one reminder of our darling child on our family tree.”  You still go over there to see her and Dad once a week, right?

Sibling 1: Sure do.  No worries, I’ll just snatch it right off that sucker next time I’m there, heh-heh-heh.

Sibling 2: Don’t you dare – she’ll think she’s losing her mind when she can’t find it later.

Sibling 1: Not a problem, I’ll do it right in front of her; I’m an honest thief.  (Starts taking ornaments from the box to hang on the tree)

Sibling 2: (Watches for a few moments) I dunno, this thing looks pretty full already, are you gonna be able to fit all this new-old stuff on it now, too?

Sibling 1: Yes.  (Continues to hang ornaments without hesitation)

Sibling 2: You knew I was bringing over about a hundred of your kiddie ornaments today –

Sibling 1: They’re not “kiddie,” they’re “classic.”

Sibling 2: Whatever – you filled up the tree before you even got to these!

Sibling 1: Nonsense: there’s still plenty of room.

Sibling 2: (Holds one of the branches out a bit) I count three on this branch alone.

Sibling 1: Is there a rule somewhere that there can only be one ornament per branch?  (Props an ice pop stick reindeer on a lower branch surrounded by a skating dog and an entire snow family)

Sibling 2: I guess not, but it looks better to space them out more, and you don’t want the whole thing to fall over and break everything.

Sibling 1: All taken care of on that front.  (Lifts up several branches to reveal the tree trunk has been reinforced with steel poles, then points to the top to show guy wires leading from there to the four corners of the room)

Sibling 2: All right then.

Sibling 1: So you gonna help me out or what?

Sibling 2: Thought nearly throwing my back out hauling this stuff over here would be enough, but OK.  (Takes an knitted nutcracker from the box and squeezes through the laden branches to an emptier spot near the trunk; spits out needles) Where’d you even get all this new stuff anyway?

Sibling 1: (Adds a third star as a tree topper) Oh, here and there.

Sibling 2: (Tries to leave but an arm is now stuck; panics) Um, oh no, help – I think the tree is taking me!

Sibling 1: (Walks over and pulls Sibling 2 out of the tree branches) Whatever happens, never show fear.

Sibling 2: What?

Sibling 1: (Starts hanging a string of embroidered train cars across the tree’s middle) Have a firm hand, show it who’s boss, take no sap!

Sibling 2: Sass?

Sibling 1: I said sap!  (Pushes face into the branches) I see you trying to trap us forever in there!  Your evil plans are foiled once again!

Sibling 2: You know you’re yelling at something that’s technically dead, don’t you?

Sibling 1: Its sacrifice for our enjoyment is not in vain, so I fail to see why it insists on fighting its fate.

Sibling 2: (Watches as more ornaments are shoved in there) I don’t know, I think you’re smothering whatever’s left.  Where’re you even gonna hang the lights?

Sibling 1: (Stares at the tree with eyes widening in horror) Son of a – !

Sibling 2: Maybe it’s a good thing: there’s so much stuff on here the lights’d probably overheat and burn the whole place down.

Sibling 1: But lights are 90% of the effect!

Sibling 2: What about one of your 10 toppers up there, can you light those?

Sibling 1: And how would the rest of the tree look then, hm?  I’ll tell you how – like a fool!

Sibling 2: (Holds up an ornament from the box) Well I doubt you could event fit one more macaroni… doll… whatever this thing is you made in kindergarten –

Sibling 1: IT IS THE VIRGIN MOTHER AND CHILD!

Sibling 2: Wow.  Then maybe stick them on a table or something.

Sibling 1: And then where would I fit all my Nativity scenes?!  (Sweeps an arm toward a side table featuring five Nativity scenes of various size and scope) And Baby Jesus can’t be anywhere near there because He hasn’t been born yet!

Sibling 2: But He can be on the tree?

Sibling 1: Yes, because that’s an ornament!  (Grabs the macaroni, climbs a stepladder, and places the piece between two angel tree toppers) There.  Now hand me a string of lights while you finish up the rest of the box.

Sibling 2: I think this whole thing’s a fire hazard by now.

Sibling 1: I have seven fire extinguishers sprinkled throughout the place – HAND ME THE LIGHTS!

(Sibling 2 hands over a string of lights and continues jamming ornaments onto the packed tree as Sibling 1 works down, adding lights until both finish their decorating around the same time.  Sibling 1 plugs the last string into the wall outlet, and they stand back to view the colorful, bursting tree)

Sibling 2: Well, surprisingly enough, you did it.  I wasn’t sure about your hardened dough snowflake from Scouts at the end there, but you managed to fit every ornament from childhood until now onto this tree.  Except the one you’re planning to steal later.

Sibling 1: (Sighs contentedly) Indeed.  This is the most perfect Christmas tree in the whole wide world.

Sibling 2: I’m sure the one at Rockefeller Center pales in comparison.

Sibling 1: (Tilts head while squinting eyes) Still….

Sibling 2: What?

Sibling 1: Needs tinsel.