The other night we took down our Christmas tree. I was sad enough, but didn't think that Bristol would really take notice. But the poor tree had quit drinking water 2 weeks ago, and was getting really crusty. So down she came. With all of the water in the base, my Mr. had to cut her up.
"I want my tree back! I want my tree back! Where is Santa going to put my presents?"
It broke my heart. What's worse is the next morning she woke up and stood where the tree used to be and while looking up said, "Where is my castle?" (An ornament her Grandpa bought her.)
Until next year!