I used to love all the American Christmas films and programmes that featured someone (usually the Dad) bringing home the Christmas Tree - walking through New York - usually in the snow. When I lived at home, we always had the poorest excuse for a Christmas Tree - it was about 2 foot tall and a fake one. So one year, the first year that my sister started work, we decided to meet up after work and buy a real tree. We met at a green grocers close to where we caught the bus (yes, we were going home on the bus). We chose our tree - 6foot didn't sound too large! This would have been around 1980, and they didn't wrap the trees in netty bags like they do these days, so we really did look like we were in a Christmas film - I seem to remember a sprinkling of snow too! The bus came, and on we jumped - her carrying the top, me carrying the bottom. We had decided to go to the back of the bus so that we wouldn't be in any ones way with the enormous tree. However, instead of walking down the bus with the base first, we did it top first, which meant everyone already sat down got slapped with at least one branch and stabbed with a few pine needles at the same time.
We of course just dissolved into a fit of giggles on the back of the bus.
Bringing it home in the car just isn't as much fun.