We got a tree. A real noble fir that stands slightly over 5', smells like the forest, and left a trail of needles from the side door of our building, up the stairs, through the door of our apartment, and down the hall to the living room. My childhood is filled with memories of real trees– going to Auggie's U-Cut X-mas trees, a small tree farm on Vashon Island, and walking through the trees until my mom and I found the perfect Blue Spruce. We cut the tree ourselves (well, dad cut it while uttering on long string of "jesusmaryandjoseph-thesefuckingblades-neversharp-whatapieceofshitsaw-christ"), strapped it to the top of the car, and drove it home where it was promptly set up up in the living room, lights and ornaments were hung, and I made myself sick on candy-canes. This tradition continued until the year my mother and I picked out a ten foot tall beauty of a Blue Spruce which was a bitch to 
cut down and broke 2 tree stands. It then got thrown on the front lawn and a fake tree was erected in its place. My wife, on the other hand, has never had a real christmas tree. She has never known the allergy inducing magic of an evergreen smelling house, the joy of sweeping up thousands of dried brown needles from the floor, or the bliss of figuring out how exactly, to dispose of a dead tree. So when she asked if we could have a real tree this year, I knew it was high time for her to partake in the experience. We started out slow this year, forgoing a u-cut tree for a tree lot, and only getting a 5' noble fir that would fit in the back of the car.
The only time I channeled my father's wit/ bah humbuggery was when we were putting the tree in the stand and dearest wife was being all a-type personality and tried to tell me how to tighten the stand. she got a snide retort of "oh- how many live trees have you put up? that's right, none. So let me do what I know how to do. Thanks." But the lights and ornament hanging went off with a hitch, and when she walked in on me this morning, smiling at the little lit tree as the sun rose, and said "See? You do like Christmas." a small part of me begrudgingly had to admit she was right. even if that small part of me really only likes A John Waters Christmas Album, spiked vegan egg-nog, and the after x-mas sales on twinkling lights.