It was amazing. We purchased our tree, and it wasn’t just a tree anymore; it was the Tree of Christmas Life! It was a symbol of everything I wanted Christmas to be. When we arrived home we unpacked the tree, drilled holes in the bottom and set it up on the tree stand. After the tree was set up, my husband let me start decorating the tree while he was in the back room wrapping presents. We hadn’t really decided where we were going to put the tree, but I couldn't wait for him to return to help me rearrange the furniture and place the tree--so I took over.
After I got the furniture rearranged, and pretty well at that, my husband walked into the living room.
I had no idea my husband was a perfectionist. I always thought it was a thing people said to get their way. They would make statements like, “I’m a perfectionist, so it has to be done like this,” or “I have to have things just right.” But, in reality, it’s much more than that. This was my first encounter seeing someone first hand have a true reaction to things being out of place. Then it all started to come together, all the little things that I had thought he did for reasons I never cared to give much thought, too.
I realize this can be a serious disorder, but this story makes me smile each time I think about it. It reminds me that with my husband there will always be new adventures ahead and even though we both have our problems we’re able to look back on them and laugh. This is and probably will forever be my favorite Christmas story because, from my point of view, my husband had a panic attack over the furniture. Like, really?! But, since I love him dearly I made a personal promise to never rearrange the furniture without his input.
