christmas tree genocide

The holidays are officially over when you take down the Christmas tree and turn off the Christmas lights on your house. It then becomes time to shove all of your decorations back in boxes and hide them somewhere in the bowels of your house where you'll never find them again next year when you need them.

Last week we borrowed my Grandpa's truck so we could take our tree over to the park to be "recycled"--i.e. made into compost.

We pulled up to the parking lot, I got out of the truck, grabbed the tree and chucked in on the pile. That was that. When I got back in, I saw that Traci had a very troubled look on her face.

"What?" I asked.

"It's just so sad."

"What's so sad?"

"All of those trees. We use the tree for a month and then just throw it away. A pile of trees that nobody loves anymore."

I guess next year Traci won't be allowed to go with me to get rid of the tree. Any suggestions on how to deal with post-tree-partum depression?