A rock and a hard place

While trying to cook broccoli in the microwave today, I blew the breaker three times. A trip to the apartment upstairs assured me that I was the only one accessing electricity from that breaker. Further investigation brought the terrible realization that I was basically only running my Christmas tree lights, computer and microwave.

One of the benefits of living in a college town is that there are bound to be dozens of discarded Christmas trees in students' front yards the week before Christmas (but after finals). My brothers-in-law recycled a beautiful tree, and even gave it a little trimming to accommodate our ceiling, leaving a bit of a platform on top that was perfect for perching a big, tacky gift bow. Although our Christmas tree has only been with us a few days, I am extraordinarily attached to it. It smells fabulous, and has surprising Febreze-like capabilities for overriding residual dirty diaper smells. I have made a pact to never water it, because the scent of dry pine needles being vacuumed up always reminds me of Christmas.

Even the distinctive odors of cooked broccoli tonight were lessened by our majestic Christmas tree--lessened by the strong pine scent, as well as the tragic fact that the microwave and our sparkling Christmas lights refused to coexist.

And thus begins the battle of microwave v. Christmas lights v. computer. I find myself between a rock and a hard place. Or two rocks and a hard place. Or whatever. Sage's biggest beef with the power outage was definitely the loss of her progress on her "Playhouse Disney" game. I know my brother-in-law Adam would be more than happy to boot the microwave. Little Jacob would too, knowing his "love" for broccoli.

As for myself, I think I can even sacrifice the convenience of 30-second zapped hot dogs for lunch to keep the Christmas mood alive for a few more fragrant and happy days of December. Happy holidays!