Death by Tree

Cedar and a decaying Spruce has my face and eyes burning with an intensity you could only achieve by rubbing habenero pepper seeds on one's skin.

And why would anyone want to rub peppers on their skin?


For over a decade, I have had the distinct displeasure of suffering through the reign of terror of the male cedar tree sperm fest.

Upon immediate inhalation of the invisible pollination jizz causes a brain fog that sets in and dismantles my thought receptors. My body goes into lethargic mode, all except nose and eyes which go into hyperactive drain mode.

So why do I feel the need to add to my misery by suffering at my parents house, during the holidays and the annual drying out of the Christmas tree?

I have no idea.

I must be a sucker for punishment. I swear the tree is burning my skin to twice the normal levels that cedar trees can achieve, but my Father refuses to listen.

He loves his tree. Its not his tree that is causing the allergies. The tree stays until Monday. I can go but the tree stays! Meanwhile, I am floating around the house in a daze mumbling under my breath that the dying spruce is killing me.

To make matters worse, my Mother is spraying the tree with her concoction of lavender and green organic cleaner which she insists will help me.

What doesn't kill me will make me stronger!

The survival training I have received from both parents this holiday has given me the necessary techniques needed to live through a terrorist attack. I can snort anthrax like it was nose sugar, drink poison like it was sumptuous wine, and walk through a bomb like it was a spa mist room.

Blondes are a tough kill!!

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