My brother and I have been going to get the Ilagan family Christmas tree (off and on) for our entire lives. Some years we skip it, but eventually we get back around to driving over to Bob’s Tree Farm and picking out a tree for the family. For the past couple of years, we’ve brought the twins along with us, with dinner afterward, preferably at the cozy Cock & Bull. This year we set out for the same adventure.
Emi wore her sequined high-tops.
I was more than a little envious.
She also showed me an impromptu drawing she did. That’s me. (Why do I look so fat? Don’t answer.)
We made it to Bob’s Trees and found this reindeer, then quickly found an acceptable tree. What used to be the most fun part of the night had quickly become the most trying, as all I wanted was dinner at the Cock & Bull. I’d asked my brother to call and make sure they were open (last year they were closed for a holiday party so we ended up at another place that everyone complained about for an entire year).
Of course, he never called, and when we arrived the Cock & Bull was not open, so we ended up in the same place that he and the twins hated so much last year. I shrugged it off because, well, these things are not surprising.
We made the most of it and the twins were fine once they made their salad bar trip and shared some chicken tenders. The holidays are not always perfect, and when things don’t turn out as perfectly-planned as you like, the only thing to do is go with the flow.
Christmas has a way of softening the most righteously indignant among us.
