On a chilly November morn, two brave, beautiful ladies-in-waiting (oh how they’re waiting!) embarked on a crusade. A crusade not to be taken lightly. The quest would not only test their courage and stunning good looks, but more importantly, challenge the capacity of their brains and brawn (of which they luckily possess an ultra-abundance). The quarry?
To find (dun, dun, dun) … “The Perfect Christmas Tree.” Oh how difficult a task! A decision of vast consequence I dare say! And what with all the variables (is it too tall? too short? to fat? too sparse? strong boughs? flimsy arms? dry needles? sappy bark?), finding “The Perfect Christmas Tree” is sure to pose a daunting, but certainly conquerable charge for these two capable ladies-in-waiting (oh how they’re waiting!).
And thus, they begin their journeyings at the land West Bountiful. Over hills, over dales, these two lovelies hit the dusty trails until … they happen upon …
Oh yes. This IS the place! Hillside upon hillside of trees for every persuasion!
Let’s see how they fare …
Upon reaching their destination,
they wind in and out of spruces and pines and furs (oh my!) until they find …
Nay. I think not.
Er … she’s a little top heavy dontcha think?
Looks more like a moose than a Christmas tree.
And so. They keep climbing. Higher and higher. And higher. Burning quads and calf muscle spasms can’t stop these two! Only the site of (hold on, let me catch my breath) … ok … only the site of THIS could stop them in their tracks (well. maybe this or a plate of Starbucks’ Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins). But could THIS be the tree?
No. Not a chance.
Oh Charlie! Where Art Thou?
(Poor little tree. And if no one takes him, he will never be able to fill the measure of his creation. That is — to be dressed in twinkling lights, covered in strings of popcorn, wrapped with tinsel, and proudly don a glittering star atop his head of course.)
And thus we see, our two heroines are striking out at every turn.
Where, oh where, has their perfect tree grown?!
To rejuvenate their spirits, they turn to playing games. Like …
OK. Enough horsing around.
But WAIT! [all characters stop dead in their tracks]
What to their wondering eyes did appear?!
dut, duh, duh, dah! the trumpets sound!
Could it be? Oh yes. Yes, that’s her.
(don’t ask me how I know the difference between boy trees and girl trees.
It’s a sixth sense I have. Akin to my pumpkin gender-identifying abilities.)
The Perfect Christmas Tree.
Isn’t she lovely? (cue Stevie Wonder)
[And now pretend that I didn't forget to take a picture of The Perfect Christmas Tree before we chopped her down.]
Our ladies-in-waiting (did I mention they’re waiting? oh how they’re waiting!) are beaming with pride. They have climbed every hillside. They have sweat with determination. They have sworn with conviction. And sometimes just sworn. But they have come off conquerors.
They are bringing home the prize.