Getting Kicked to the Curb

At our first encounter I was enthralled. Physical beauty reeled me in—as well as the addictive scent it wore. And even though the physique was a bit portly I chose to overlook it. Nothing in nature is perfect. And I couldn’t wait for the dressed up attire—the sparkle—the compliments that would reflect back on me. I had chosen well.

But by the time the party was over I was no longer so enamored. In fact my interest had waned--significantly. I began to contemplate demise. Its usefulness had been outlived. I was totally bored. I now viewed maintenance too high to keep rather than a pleasure thing to extoll. I saw only superficial beauty---nothing that could plant root. My enjoyment had dried up. So as judge and jury I put it on death row and set its date of extinction.

Today is the day I will execute my plan. After I pack up the ornaments and pull the bag over its apex that seasonal conifer will be gone and kicked to the curb. There is no more room in my life for a Christmas tree. Christmas is so last year. There are other holidays waiting in the wings to be celebrated.

Adios Christmas tree. It was nice knowing you. Maybe your replacement next year will enjoy an extended stay—but I doubt it. Beauty that is only skin deep never lasts. Unless of course you arrive with roots—beauty and roots are the only way I will allow you to plant yourself perennially in my life—just like with people.