An Unexpected Holiday Message

"Twas the night before Christmas

 And all through the house

 Not a creature was stirring

 Not even a mouse."

No mice were stirring, eh? Well, I beg to differ…especially when your holiday tree is affectionately dubbed a holiday buffet.

Here’s the story of how my Christmas tree became the gift that kept on giving to all God’s creatures, big and small, and taught me an unexpected holiday lesson.

Almost 10 years ago, my mom introduced me to the concept of the Christmas kitchen tree. It seemed unusual to put a Christmas tree in the kitchen, but that was Mom and her unique sense of style. And wouldn't you know it: she did it, received many compliments on her creativity and inspired others to replicate it.

What made this tree special were two things: one, it was in the kitchen, and two, the ornaments were food or food-related. She’d hang silverware, wooden spoons and cookie cutters on this tree, nestled among brightly-colored candies.

I decided to take the Christmas kitchen tree to the next level and create even more edible ornaments. It started with old-fashioned peppermints and candy canes, followed by shortbread cookies hung with twine. Tiny take-out boxes, striped in red and white, were stuffed with popcorn and hung on its branches. The finishing touch: yards of homemade popcorn and cranberry garland, thanks to my very generous friends whose fingers ached after hours on the garland assembly line.

My kitchen Christmas tree

The tree was a sight, all bright and cheery, smelling of peppermint, shortbread and fresh popcorn. It was admired by many, and as we stood in the twinkle of its lights, we felt the true spirit of Christmas.

Then the dog found it.

At first, the signs were subtle. I’d find a small piece of twine on the kitchen floor and assume I dropped it while decorating. Then I noticed more twine on the floor, but the pieces were knotted in small loops…just like the loops I had made to hang shortbread cookies on the tree. Around the 3^rd day, an all-out canine assault occurred. Popcorn carryout boxes were tipped, their crumbs strewn on the floor amid more empty twine loops. Among the carnage stood our 50 lb German Shepherd, her head hung in guilt. That day, the tree was slightly modified (read: edible ornament moved to higher boughs).

Then the mice found it.

I woke up one morning, shortly after the dog destruction, headed to the kitchen and found more cookie crumbs and popcorn kernels littering the floor beneath the tree. Immediately I started scolding the dog. At that moment, a small flurry blur darted out of the tree and nearly ran into my foot on its way to the pantry. Eek! Christmas had come early for the rodent population, and they were having a jubilee.

That day, the popcorn and cookies were removed. The peppermint candies had escaped both encounters with the wild kingdom, so I allowed those to stay, and the tree retained some of its festive character. Staring at the pile of edible ornaments on the counter, I picked up a stale cookie, took a bite out of it, tossed it in the trash, and burst out laughing.

The lesson? The best laid plans, my friends, don’t always work. On many occasions I strive for hosting, cooking and decorating perfection, only to end up with a snafu that makes me take myself not-so-seriously. I've laughed for days – weeks, even – at the thought of that dog gingerly removing cookies from the tree, one at a time, as well as the mice adorning its branches like real live, furry ornaments, snacking on popcorn as if at the movies. It will be a story to tell for years to come.

I wish you the perfect holiday…and not one with magazine-spread table arrangements, or photo-shoot-worthy food, or smartly-clad family posed around the tree with homemade eggnog. All of those things are nice (and I’d be lying if I said I didn't enjoy creating them) – but when your family and mine rolls out of bed in their sweats, hair sticking up in six directions, maybe syrup on their chin from a pancake breakfast, the kitchen trashed after that breakfast and wrapping paper soon strewn all over the floor…well, that’s what I’m most thankful for.

Merry Christmas.