The Spouse Thingy wanted a big tree. I wanted a small tree.
He wanted a nicely decorated big tree. I wanted a geeky Doctor Who themed tree.
We both got what we wanted.
I have my little tree that fits near the fireplace, decked out in Daleks, Cybermen heads, K-9s, and the TARDISes. At the very top is the 11th Doctor's sonic screwdriver. And around the fireplace and over the archway are lots of little TARDIS lights.
The tree in the front room--placed in front of the window so that it shows outside--is loaded with traditional ornaments and has a nice, soft, thick felt skirt. It's nine feet tall, the tallest I think we've ever had. The tree skirt is mostly for the cats, because in years past they've loved napping under the tree...which means that so far this year, there's been zero cat napping there.
But you notice, don't you, that I've only referred to them as trees. No adjective attached. Just trees.
Why? Because I can't fathom why anyone cares what I call my trees. And I can't fathom the annual outrage about what people "should" call their trees and how we should greet people this time of year.
"But it's Christmas!"
"They're CHRISTMAS trees!"
Not really. The bringing inside of a tree and calling it a Christmas tree is a relatively new concept, starting somewhere around the 16th century. Pagans used trees for holiday rituals long before Christians co-opted them. I don't seen an uprising of Pagans over this; they're trees, why the heck shouldn't we all enjoy them?
(aside: if you're looking to the Bible, take a peek at Jeremiah 10:2-4, wherein it pretty much says that heathens are the ones who cut down trees, drag 'em inside, and decorate them with shiny things.)
I've known a few Jewish people over the years who have used decorated trees in their house to celebrate that time period from Thanksgiving to New Year's...for the holidays. Should they not be allowed?
Now, the tree in our front room is a Christmas tree. Because that's what we celebrate.
The tree in the living room? That's a Whovimas tree, because that's just cool--the Doctor Who Christmas Special will play on the 25th, and you can be sure we're going to watch it.
I don't care what my neighbors call their trees, if they have them.
I don't care what you call your tree, even if you call it George. (If you have a "real" tree, you can ask everyone in the house, "Hey, did you water George today? Anyone feed George?" New holiday fun for the family...the running, groaner of a dad-joke.)
I also don't care if you say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, or Have a Nice Day. Not as long as you're nice about it.
My feelings might be hurt if you tell me to shove that Merry Christmas up my asterisk, but maybe not. Depends on how annoying I've been.
I'm not 8 years old; I'm not easily offended; I'm not walking around with a giant Christmas stick up my ass. I understand that a whole bunch of things a whole bunch of people try to claim as Christian have roots elsewhere. I'm not going to pretend that it really matters what you call your tree or how you greet people right now.
Because it really doesn't matter.
Oh, and if you're having a stroke about it because THIS IS CHRISTMAS, go hang a beautiful wreath on your door to compliment your tree. And know that the roots of that wreath are Wiccan.