We got our Christmas tree last night. And a poinsettia. After selecting our tree, we walked into the nursery section of Andersons, past rows of clearly spray-painted ones (“Poor things, they’ll die,” I said. “Whoever did this MUST BE SHOT,” Eric said),  and I showed him the citrus trees I covet. Then I headed for the small pots on the end of the poinsettia section.

“You want a small one?” he said dubiously.

“Well, I guess. Why? Do you want a bigger one?”

“Might as well,” he said, and picked up a big, healthy-looking plant. “How about this one? It’s pretty. And some of the leaves are still green, that’s cool.” Enabler.

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