Alright....I figure between this and the long fics I need to update I can at least be productive. This certaitnly helped jogged my brain, even though it is so short. Hope it is somewhat enjoyable.

Disclaimer: I dont' own Harvest Moon :(

"Rick…she's only two weeks old. I don't think she's going to remember much of her first Christmas."

I huffed in annoyance at my wife, as I tried in vain to untangle the green blob of wires and multicolored lights, beginning to snatch at it in frustration. I could smell the hot chocolate taunting me on the table, and that seemed to be making me all the more aggravated.

"But I will Claire. And I want it to be perfect," I muttered out, smirking as I finally got some of the wire to loosen and unravel. Unfortunately in that unraveled bit there was no end piece, and I immediately sighed in defeat. This was going to take awhile.

"I think it would be less frustrating and a lot easier to just go buy new lights," she said quietly, sitting on the couch in front of me and sinking into the plush cushions. She looked utterly exhausted, her usually immaculate hair up in a messy bun and her wrinkly baggy pajamas making her look somewhat frumpy.

I think that Claire would look stunning in a burlap sack, and so I didn't mind her appearance in the least .After all she had been taking care of our newborn daughter for the past two months. And the fatigue was obvious. Her beautiful cerulean eyes were dull and lacking in their usual luster, and under her eyes were the tell tale signs of sleep deprivation.

"It might be easier, but we'd have to order them from the city," I countered, pushing my glasses up my nose as I examined the wad of tangled lights, searching for an end piece. Silence filled the air, the only sound the ticking of the old clock against the wall and crackling and popping of the burning wood in the hearth.

This winter season had been more stressful on me than others. I suppose because of stress and worry. I had always had deal with those things in my life, stressing over my father's absence and worrying over my mother's health. But this year I had the added burden.

I had to worry about Claire, and the baby that was growing inside of her. My baby, our baby. Claire had protested it, but I had taken on all her farm chores as she got further along, afraid that something would happen to her out in her field, that one of her cows might pin her to the wall and lean on her. *

I was so damn scared that something would happen to make her lose the baby, or something would happen to make me lose both of them. Things that I cared about in my life had always been easily taken away, or very fragile.

But I wouldn't be that way. I wouldn't leave my wife, my child behind to go find some cure that was supposedly a myth. I would stay here and support my wife, nurture my family, and help my daughter grow. And if there were more children in the future, I would do the same for them. My children would have the happy unbroken home I had yearned for so much growing up. I wouldn't be a disappointment, a distant memory.

Christmas time contained some of my fondest memories with my father. How we would get up early on Christmas morning to hike up the mountain. Well Dad would hike up the mountain and pull me on my sleigh while I made sure the axe stayed securely on it.

Then there was always the search for the perfect Christmas tree. The first eight that I picked out were always to big to fit in our modest house, and then the next three were always to wide. And by the time dad finally suggested a smaller thinner tree my glasses were frosted over and virtually useless.

As the men of the house, we always had to set the tree up, and then I would get to sit down and have a glass of hot chocolate while my dad did exactly what I was doing. Tried to untangle the Christmas lights. And evidently it was just as frustrating for me as it had been for him.

I paused what I was doing when I heard the soft gurgling coming from the next room, signaling that Ashleen was awake. Claire stood up, pausing and looking down as she spoke.

"You know…in the city we never had real trees at Christmas time," she said, finally breaking the silence. "They were always artificial," she added, turning her head to the side thoughtfully. I snorted and was about to protest the existence of artificial trees when she continued on. "I never liked them, but I used to have one that was pre lit." Her words made me drop the bundle of wires and my glasses slid down my nose.

"Pre lit?"

"Yeah. The tree already had the lights on it. Every year I would just put it together, and plug it in. And then I would go to the tree lot and but a few branches to stick in, so the house had that pine scent," she turned on me as she finished, walking into the other room to see to our daughter.

I looked at the pile of lights that I was trying to untangle, and then to the axe I had by the door to go and cut a real tree down, and thought back on her words. I stood and put on my coat, calling out to her.

"I'm going to talk to Zack, about…ordering something," I called over my shoulder, walking out into the cold.

It wasn't really about the tree after all. It was about getting to spend time with your loved ones. And if you could cut corners to do that, and not get homicidal of tangled lights, then why not?

*My dad told me this story once about a farmer who got pinned against the fence and a cow, and the cow just kept leaning against him and crushing him. The farmer almost died; but they found him in time and he only suffered multiple broken ribs. That's where Rick's worry comes from.