December 13, 2012

My dearest,

So we bring the Christmas tree home, the fake one that was pretty. It wasn’t just that the real tree was ugly in your eyes but also because I dreaded cleaning up dead pine cones as they fall off the tree.

Still, this selection process of ours ought not apply to other areas of life (synthetic bosom enhancers come to mind).

We place the tiny (fake, pretty) Christmas tree on top of our coffee table. The living room looks more festive already.

“Do you think it’s too small?” you ask.

“No, it’s not too small,” I say.

“Wouldn’t a larger tree look better here?”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“You sure? Cos …”

“…”

Yours, ever and always.