So needless to say, I was feelin' pretty sour about not having a Christmas tree. And I made sure I acted as a travel agent for guilt trips every time we saw trees for sale at any retail establishment...not that we'd have a place to put a tree, but that definitely didn't stop me from laying it on reaaaaaaaaaal thick.
I thought that I had maybe taken it a little bit too far when I started saying how beautiful the trees looked on some BBC Christmas special when the Agent just got up and left the room in the middle of my sentence.
Um, wow. Okay. I seriously crossed the line.
But then he came downstairs with this sweet little thing:
Yes, I'm repeating from Instagram. Don't act like you don't!
Turns out he and my mom conspired fix up this little faux battery powered tree. Mom hot glued all the little lights and ornaments on and then the hubs smuggled it back in his luggage. I have the best family.
So then the Agent gets out his Leatherman and I start freaking thinking he's going to destroy my precious mini tree. He kindly tells me he's going to wire it so we can plug it into the wall and not use a zillion batteries from now until Epiphany. Wise man! (Oh yes I did....)
So as he's tinkering I say, "You know how to diffuse explosives don't you...?"
"you aren't allowed to tell me, are you?"
Agent says: "Yeah, something like that. Now if you would please take our daughter out of the room- this thing is either going to work perfectly or explode."