When You're a Singing Christmas Tree...
1) Scared and inapprehensive. They see the button, but were taught well, "Never push the forbidden button of mystery". They come in on their own accord and generally want to know what it's about, but the button, OH THE BUTTON! They usually scream.
2) Bored. They've been scouting for the good rooms and haven't found any... Until they press the button! Watch their faces light up as their night is suddenly filled with meaning!
3) Repeat. "Seriously, check it out! Press the button!" They wanna hear how many songs this tree has inside him. Heck, they might press the button 4, 5, 18 times? They might even make requests and expect a programed electrical singing christmas tree to suddenly know new songs. Gosh!
4) Unimpressed. Walk in, hands in pocket, notice the button, push it emotionlessly, chuckle briefly and leave before the song is over. Boo-urns.
5) Tickled pink. They'd come in inquisitively, open-minded and a little confused, but shot out a hearty laugh and enjoyed the songs the tree would sing. They'd make compliments and politely leave after a few songs. My favourite kind.
9 Comments:
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Nice Andrew; I enjoyed your singing Christmas tree ... 'display' (for lack of a better word). Congratulations
By , at 12:08 a.m. -
Crazy singing hippy tree. Back in my day we didn't have no stinking singing trees. Our trees had needles and bark and if you were lucky some decorations. You spend hours hunting for the right one, and after christmas, you would all gather round for the annual burn the tree before it burns you family fun time. What the heck would you do with a singing tree after the holidays? Burn it? Maybe, if you were trying to excise the demons from your demon possessed singing tree. Hippy and satanic......now there's a combination for you. Why can't we all go back to the days of non demon possessed hippy trees? What was so bad about those days. Sure Uncle Mort would get a little hopped up on barley and wheat grass and try to set the house aflame with his christmas exuberance or as the fire marshall calls it - arson. They were the days of innocence and wooden trains, unless Santa thought you were being a dumbass all year, then you got a snake in your stocking. Oh, but for the yesteryears of old, and all the magic they used to entail. Crazy demon hippy tree.
By , at 1:17 a.m. -
oh and Santa is an anagaram for Satan.....coincidence.....probably......I hope so....I hate to think that all those presents I got as a wee tyke were actually from the Prince of darknes and not the jolly fat man in a red suit....kind of an eery thought.
By , at 2:06 a.m. -
Josh what in Sam Hill are you on? *karen shakes head*
By , at 6:38 a.m. -
Sam Hill
By Andrew, at 9:16 a.m.
LOL -
I was a mixture of #3, and #5. You were great Andrew. So great in fact I had a dream about the whole thing. See me for further details.
By , at 9:30 a.m. -
you like the Sam Hill? I figured I use it too much most days, I work in a daycare and it is a good way to express exasperation without swearing or sounding like you are swearing.
By , at 6:31 p.m. -
As far back as I can remember, I've LOVED pushing buttons. Creating a button that makes my friend sing and move funny while dressed up like a Christmas tree rockin' the aves is just plain irresistable!
By , at 10:21 a.m.
Alas, there were so many people around that I couldn't get close enough to push the button... ;( -
hmmm, it sounds like I missed out on a very interesting phenomenon:(
By , at 10:54 a.m.