Mud Flaps

Every year we cut down a Christmas tree. And every year we end up with a story.

Once, Aimee was 8.5 months pregnant with Skylar trekking up the hill and stepping over stumps. Another time we trudged through a near foot of snow. Another we dealt with a constipated miserable child who was cold. Last year we got all the way to the top of the hill and both children announced they had to go to the bathroom, so Aimee had to go back to the van, drive to the port-o-potty, then drive back and walk back up the mountain. And almost every time we wait until 4 o'clock to get there, and end up in the dark with no lights trying to tie it on top.

This year, the story gets even better.

We tried a new farm and drove up the long driveway. We were following another car. We got to a small hut that was selling pre-cuts, so we kept driving, behind the other car, but there were no signs to keep going for cut-your-owns. The car in front of us turned around in a small driveway of sorts. I passed that car and decided to do a wide swing to the right and around to reverse direction. But as soon as we got just off the driveway, I knew we were doomed.

Mud. From the flood rains we had two days prior. The mud ate my entire front right wheel. We had sunk up to the bumper and were going nowhere forward or back. Mud was flying. And we just kept sinking. Skylar was hysterical, worried that we would be stuck there forever, it was scary, that they would have to lift up our van and this and that and she was just beside herself. And Fiona was very calm, trying to explain to her sister there was nothing to worry about.

Luckily, Aimee hiked it back to the farmhouse and a great young guy brought his truck and a chain and pulled us out. He said it was a popular spot for getting stuck, that both sides of the driveway are wetlands and it happens all the time.

And the lesson we learned from that guy: rather than get annoyed and view it as a hassle (which both of us would tend to immediately do), he suggested we laugh about it, view it as an adventure, since we now have a great family memory and a good story to tell about the time we got stuck in the mud. Lessons #2, 3 and 4: the 3-point turn is our friend, only cowboys do the wide loop and sometimes grassy areas are simply sinkholes in disguise.

We didn't end up getting our tree there, since the cut-your-owns were all 12 feet tall and they said just cut the top off the one you like. But we went to our usual farm, in the middle of the day, and found our tannenabum in record time. No bathroom breaks. No constipation. No hassles.