Vanity has never really been one of my failings. I mean, I care, but I don't really care. My clothes are not in style because they probably weren't any style to begin with. My eyebrow probably wishes I was a little more vain...if you know what I mean. I don't spend money on my hair or nails. Our vehicles are practical and economical. And that's it.
Actually, let me take you on a little sideline here: the 1999 Camry. If you are looking for a dependable car that absolutely refuses to die, get yourself a 1999 Toyota, Camry. Ask your grandma if you can buy hers. There are approximately 700 grey Toyota, Camrys identical to ours in our community alone. Because they all refuse to quit. And manufacturers probably never made another car like it because that kind of lasting power doesn't do them any favors. It isn't sexy, but 250 thousand miles with little more than general maintenance does kind of make me blush.
But back to the vanity spiel. Where was I going with that? Oh yeah, our Christmas tree. Some people pick-up unwanted pets or the homeless during the holidays. We pick-up unwanted Christmas trees. We are a home for the unattractive, the marginalized, the underappreciated...fir. Our trees are always homely. But we may have brought home our best (worst) tree yet. The boys picked it out - so it's beautiful. They cut it down themselves, and they did the majority of the decorating. We could only use our lightest ornaments because, well, its few branches are not made for bearing weight. I tried to make it stand straight but wasn't super successful. It has some substantial bare spots. When the boys were done with their decorating, I added another round of lights to try to fill things in a bit. A short while later I heard Sawyer come out of his room and down the hall. He spotted the tree with his handiwork and the extra lights, and I heard him whisper to himself, "beautiful."
I smiled to myself. He wasn't wrong. It is beautiful, and precious, and perfectly us. No vanity necessary.
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