Emmy and John live next door. Every year, they finish their Christmas shopping by September, and get their cards mailed out by mid-November. We knew they didn't have their tree yet. For once, we were determined to do something before they did. But when we walked into the Christmas tree lot, guess who had arrived minutes before. Yep. Em and John.
They managed to pay for their tree seconds before we chose our fat boy. (below, left to right: our tree, their tree)
While Emmy was fishing in her purse for keys, Tom and I exchanged glances. We threw our tree on top of the Ford and squealed out of the lot, blasting the horn. People, baby buggies, dogs, bicycles, ambulances scattered. We flew up 45th Avenue and skidded to a stop in front of our homes seconds before they did.
