Sibling Contest: Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

The entries are in! Three stories have been selected. They will be posted today, Wednesday and Friday. Beginning Friday you will be able to vote for your favorite sibling story. The story with the most votes will win Luke and Leia action figurines! Today I offer you Blind Eagle’s “Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas tree!” Enjoy!

I am the youngest of a long line of mischievous¬† children. I was always more on the quiet and shy side, so I’m sure you can imagine the relentless jokes/pranks/torture I had to endure as a child with my older siblings being the crazy ones. Let’s just say I was picked on…a lot. I still am to be honest.

My siblings are also very chatty folks. I was never able to get a word in, especially at the dinner table. I like to say I was stifled. So much in fact, that after reciting the Gettysburg Address in high school, my teacher (who had all of my siblings pass through her class), told me that was the most she had ever heard me say. She also added that knowing my siblings, I probably never got the opportunity to talk much at home. She was right.

So anyway, I was more sensitive, certainly more quiet, and definitely not as naughty as my older siblings. I was one of their favorite victims. So needless to say, when it was just me at home, I finally started to break out of my shell. I missed them, but it was kind of nice to not be picked on as much, or so I thought. Little did I know they would still orchestrate pranks when they were away from home, which brings me to Christmas 1998.

Christmas tree hunting has always been a great tradition in my family.

The hunt for the perfect tree...
The hunt for the perfect tree…

Fake trees were out of the question. We had to go to a Christmas tree farm, pick out the perfect tree, and have the patriarch of the family cut it down and tie it to the good ‘ole station wagon. All of us kids would pick out what we considered to be the perfect tree and stand by it. We would of course argue over which tree was best as our father would just try to pick the closest one to the wagon so we could get it cut and be on our way.

For years and years my tree was never picked. Finally, in 1998, it was my turn. Everyone else was either in college or already out of college. This was my year. Who else was there to pick out a tree. So off we went to the tree farm. I found a tree and called my parents over.

“Nah, there’s a hole.” Barely. It was a near perfect tree.

I didn't see it ...
I didn’t see it …

On to the next one.

“Too bushy.” “Too bushy?! I protested, “I want bushy!”

Too bushy?! Trees can never be too bushy!!
Too bushy?! Trees can never be too bushy!!

I tried to find another tree and again, I was thwarted. Are you kidding me? Everyone was out of the house and I STILL couldn’t pick out a tree. Tree after tree my parents denied every piece of pine I pointed out. Why were they doing this to me? Well, as it turned out, my parents were encouraged by my siblings in far away places to disapprove of every tree I chose. I can see my siblings doing that, but my parents going along with it?! Wow. My mom, who is normally terrible at keeping pranks a secret, was actually able to pull it off too.

Even with all of them gone, I still couldn’t win. Siblings suck.

If you liked Blind Eagle’s sibling story, be sure to check back Wednesday and Friday of this week to read our other two finalists’ stories. And be sure to vote for your favorite!!!


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