And by “Sparkle Motion,” I mean “my Christmas tree.”*
*What, do you not name your Christmas tree?
For my whole life, my grandmother has maintained a tradition of giving every family member a hand-selected ornament. As a child, this was an eye-rolling pain – why get an ornament when wrapping paper should always contain a valuable toy? As an adult, I’m almost painfully grateful for this tradition. For one thing, I actually have a collection of ornaments to put on a tree. For another thing, most of those ornaments are so wildly unique that my Christmas tree is like no other.
Despite that glorious tradition, this is the first year in a very long time that I’ve had my own Christmas tree. Generally, I just sort of hurl lights all around my living space, call it festive, and eat cookies until Santa comes.*** This is a remarkably delightful life plan, but this year, I decided it was time to step up my game.
***Life Lesson 307: Always leave cookies for Santa. A story for another day.
So I rescued a box of ornaments from my parents’ house. A box that I was told was filled with ornaments that were mine. Only to discover that this was not quite true. Yes, many of the ornaments were mine.
But many of them were also my mother’s.
Ever since my parents decided that fake trees were much easier**** than real trees, there’s been some fierce competition for space on their tree. This has led to some excess ornaments which sometimes are left neglected in the box. My mother has apparently solved this problem by giving me some of the more unique***** ornaments.
****Not full of spider eggs.
*****Ornaments I have hidden at random around her house, with malicious intent.
The mystical BalletReindeerLabra is a magical being****** that can bestow both candlelight and sugarplum fairy replacement on your holiday. She was gifted to my parents, but has perpetually been too heavy to live on the tree. Her strangely varied skills provoked endless smarmy storytelling from me over the years, which apparently makes her mine. Because my benevolent mother would hate to leave me uninspired, I’m sure. Thanks Mom.
******And actually a super expensive designer ornament, apparently.
Meet the Christmas Mermaid, a staple for Christmas trees on shipwrecks. She’s festive AND practical. Also, she’s blue because water is cold in December. Duh. She now lives on the toasty warm tree, pining for her frozen watery home*******. She’s my festive hostage, courtesy of my mother informing me that this was obviously my decoration, despite my memories to the contrary. Thanks, Mom.
*******To make her feel more comfortable, I put her next to my shark ornament. Do you not have a shark ornament? Oh, well, your grandmother must not be as cool as mine. Bummer.
And now we come to the greatest of them all.
Santa Fairy. Unlike the Sugar Plum Fairy, I confess: Santa Fairy kind of scares me. He has for years. Unlike the jolly fat elf of my childhood years, Santa Fairy has appeared “mysteriously” in random places around me ever since I confessed to my mother that he inexplicably scares the living daylights out of me.********
********I like to have really illogical fears. Besides, Lookit those eyebrows. Just LOOK at them.
He was in my ornament box. Because, you know, mothers want their kids to overcome their fears. Thanks, Mom.
All these ornaments********* (and so many more) have found a home on my tree, It’s the most unique tree in the world. I love it. Sometimes I am slightly scared of it, but the different ornaments are all memories, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Also, my tree has a fuzzy lion and a glittery flamingo. Does YOURS?
*********Except Santa Fairy. He is going RIGHT BACK where he came from.
Yeah. I didn’t think so. You’re going to have to step up your game, or I’m going to start questioning YOUR commitment to Sparkle Motion.