When you are a kid, especially a boy - you see your father pull out his best sailor impersonation fooling with the bloody Christmas tree stand and think to yourself that that will not be you when you grow up. You will sit there, composed, and reflect on the spirit of the season. Take a slow sip of scotch, and try yet again to gently get the stand to perform its ballet of grip, tuck, and stand.

Fat chance.

Actually this year - after completely cleaning out my storage to find the new christmas tree stand we inherited from my grandfather-in-law and finding that it wouldn't work with any tree over 3 microns in diameter - I actually got the darn thing into the old flimsy K-Mart special stand and it stood up. It stood up as long as there were no strong breezes. I hope it makes it through boxing day, but don't mentiontion that to the wife...

Well, the christmas tree stand wasn't as bad as it usually is if you ignore that fact that we locked ourselves out of the house on the way to get the tree in the first place., but then I experienced that other fatherly consternation. A cool new musical toy that likely has more computing power than my C-64 ever had was a hit with the little one, but it didn't seem to actually make any music. Off to the kitchen after fighting packaging that is far more sturdy than the toy included inside. Don't they lose money on this packaging?

It must not have batteries... Open the battery compartment and find - whats this?!? - Batteries! Wow. Hrm... still doesn't work. Maybe their dead. New batteries (see, I'm not completely my Dad) in and - - - NOTHING. Frickin fracken... How the heck am I going to get it back in the steel trap packaging that was invariably nearly ruined upon extrication to then hear a snot nosed Toys'r'us employee tell me that they can't take it back...

Its amazing how we all become our Dads. Pass the PBR.

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