Okay, so it wasn't George Washington, it was Trinidad. And it wasn't a cherry tree. If it was, we would have kept it. It was the tree out front that we've been planning on removing for some time, to make room for trees that grow nuts or fruit. It was also the only tree in the front yard that Trin likes to climb. He's been steadfastly and passionately opposed to cutting it down. In fact, he extracted a promise from me that I wouldn't cut it down without telling him, which kept the tree alive on at least two events and for well over six months.
"Trin, we were thinking about chopping down that tree out front…"
Mutinous lower lip protrusion.
"… and we were wondering if you'd like to do it."
Lip retracts, thoughtful expression.
I was going to put if off, since it was getting late. Kristin, more wise, said, "There's enough light out still. Why don't you do it now?"
So out we went, newly-sharpened hatchet in hand. And Trinidad cut down his first tree, with half the neighborhood kids watching.
It took awhile.
Trin even allowed his little brother to take 17 chops, carefully counted, with the hatchet – which, believe me, didn't remove a whole lot of wood.
And the tree we wanted gone – is finally gone. No lies necessary.