This is the star that sat atop my Christmas tree when I was growing up. When I was about 4, I sat on the seventiestacular styrofoam and glitter one, and my dad was upset, but we went out and picked this one out together. I wonder if he remembers that? It happened the day before I shocked myself on the outlet when I was playing with the tree light plug. I've been afraid of electricity ever since. Rough two days.
When my parents split, one of them got the original star and the other one went out and bought the same exact one so both of my trees had the same star on top. I swiped this one from my mom's house a few years ago. It's my favorite Christmas decoration ever and I still haven't found a prettier star. I bought something that I kind of like this year, but, meh. I'm half tempted to keep this out all year round so I can look at it whenever I want to, but I love taking it out of storage and holding it up to the windows and lights and figuring out where it will go.
I wonder if I look at this star the same way I look at my kid, as though it is the most perfect most beautiful most special thing in the whole wide world because it is all mine but everyone else sees snot and messy hair and precociousness.
2 degrees {comments}:
A couple years ago, my mom gave my sis and I some old ornaments. Love them for so many reasons. I'll have to share pics when we get our tree up.
I completely understand. My parents have an angel on the top of their tree. This angel is the perfect example of the late 60's gorgeousness. It has a Mia Farrow married to Frank Sinatra pixie haircut and everything. But the best part of this angel is that it looks like its been on a bender and has a Neo-Nazi Hitler hand salute. I love that thing.
David and I used to fight about who's turn it was to put it on the tree so my parents had to write our names and the year we put it on the tree inside her skirt so we didn't fight over it every year. If he were in Erie to put the tree up we would still fight. He's a baby like that.
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