The Fallen Angel

Like many of my other anal tendencies, I am very particular about decorating our tree and landscaping outside.  My motto is simple and elegant.  White lights and reindeer in the shrubs, candles in the windows upstairs, and a holiday swag hung on the front door.  Our tree follows the same logic – white non-blinking lights, gifted ornaments and a giant red bow with its ribbon cascading around the tree. The problem with the bow, however, is that from time to time it needs to replaced once it looses it shape.

Last year, I left my tree without a bow while I made arrangements to buy a new one.  In my delay of doing so, my daughter convinced my husband to buy an angel that would grace our tree top.  In a white gown and gold fiber optic wings, her hands moved in the most creepy way.  It was scary in every way, but my daughter loved it.  So in an effort to please my daughter and spare myself from being struck down by God, the angel completed our tree.

Fast forward to present day.  My nativity scene – which is another post in and of itself –  was missing an angel.

Last year's angel with the Nativity. Baby Jesus looks like he is 5.

So I took the creepy tree top angel and grouped it with the already strange nativity scene.  I would get a new bow for my tree top.  But I failed to factor in my husband into the equation and this is where the meat of my post lies.

The weekend of my daughter’s Nutcracker performance, I sent my husband out to purchase either ….and the following were my exact words ” buy either an angel or a reindeer for outside”  since my daughter performed both roles in the ballet.  I thought it would a nicer present than flowers that would die in a few short days.  But I am not sure what my husband heard.

We came home from the last performance to find a creepier angel tree topper whose fiber optic wings turn hot pink, blinding blue and bright yellow and holds a torch fit for a sorcerer from Lord of the Rings sitting on the table.  My daughter instantly fell in love and my heart sank.  Turning to my husband in my most non confrontational way, asked him why on earth he bought a tree top instead of an outdoor decoration.

Husband: “I didn’t hear you say outside – just angel or reindeer.”

Me: “Even if you didn’t hear me sat outside, don’t you think it was strange I would ask for a reindeer to top a tree?  Do they even sell reindeer as a tree topper? Why on earth would I want a reindeer to top the tree.”

Husband: “Humph” which translates to,  “You’re Wacky. I am tuning you out.”

So in an effort to again not to be struck down by God, creepier angel sits atop our tree.

Clearly, this village needs a sword yiedling Angel...

I think next year, my village will need a creepier torch yielding angel to help the villagers light the way……




2 thoughts on “The Fallen Angel

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