My Most Recent Favorite Accident

Over Thanksgiving my daughter and I took a trip to Hobby Lobby to snag a few bangles and bobbles to decorate my house for Christmas. The pizazz was a bit overwhelming, but fun nonetheless. One-thousand smells, two-thousand sparkling lights and three-thousand ornaments. My last grab was a new Christmas tree stand, which I snagged without much thinking. It was the only one on the shelf.

At the register my bill was twice as much as I expected, making me gawk at the reciept as I stumbled out of the store. What in the world had tipped the scale? It was the Christmas tree stand. Of course the box claimed it was worth twice as much as I paid and because time and efficiency are worth more to me than money, I shrugged and pitched it in the trunk instead of going back in to argue the audacity. You got me, Hobby Lobby.

Once home the kids were finding places for all the twinkles and charms. Suddenly my son exclaimed, "Mom! You got the rotating Christmas tree stand? You're getting fancy!" What?!? This is not who I am.

If you walked into my house, you'd notice I have a forty-year-old tree, only three remaining intact shiny glass balls and at least ten handmade plaster prints of my children under the age of eight. I prefer paper chains over metallic garland. I would be delighted to have the time to make dried cranberry and orange ornaments. I'm the person who values simple, nostalgic and quaint, not a flashy, tour-of-homes-worthy living room. I did not purchase a rotating Christmas stand on purpose.

And yet, here we are. As we finished decorating the tree and hunted for the switch that would make it twirl, we stood in awe and wonder as the hundreds of colored lights popped and then hid again behind the plastic fake fir making the whole thing twinkle. It was gorgeous and silly and wonderful. A delightful accident. Better than I could have planned for myself, as are most of my bumbling accidents... eventually.

Who knows, maybe next year I will purchase a disco-ball tree-topper.