We went to Labus Christmas Tree Farm to cut our own Christmas trees. Every tree is $25 whether it is two feet tall or 20 feet tall. There are no hayrides or hot chocolate, but the trees are nice and dogs are welcome — even worthless yellow labs who, overwhelmed by the scents of the forest, frantically pull their owners over the icy trails.

“Come on, Lydia! We don’t have all day. Cut faster.”

The story was still a happy one as Claire and Helen carried the tree toward the van.

We warned the neighbor kids “It is going to be a 30 minute drive there and back.” But we neglected to warn them about the 20 minutes trying to tie the tree to the top of a van without a roof rack. Oh, and then there was the 30 minutes spent trying to push our huge, million-pound full sized van out of the slightly inclined, icy farm field turned parking lot. Oh, and the 20 minutes on hold with AAA and the 45 minutes waiting for the tow truck to find us in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately we had enough gas to run the van and heater. To help the time pass more slowly, Lydia serenaded us with a whiney chorus of “I’m hungry” for the last half-hour.

You know that feeling when you are out in the country walking your dog… it is a freezing, dark and windy night… your family is stranded in a motionless van… and you see the lights of the tow truck coming down the winding road? No, you don’t know that feeling, because you have a normal vehicle that does not get stuck on every slippery incline. But let me tell you, the lights of that approaching tow truck were a glorious sight.

Our saviors, Ivan and his dad, Louie, from Rush Hour Towing. (I like how wisdom stands, while youth crawls around in the ice and snow.)

Feel shame, you big, traction-free bus!

I endorse Rush Hour Towing. The drivers were helpful and cheerful even though they were called out to the middle of nowhere on a freezing Sunday night when they should have been home in their slippers sipping hot chocolate. They pulled us easily out of the parking lot, and I was able to have a homeschool moment about the word “winch.”

So, it’s funny. Realizing my big truck was stuck while mini-vans came and went was a little depressing; the testosterone was not coursing through my veins. Waiting for the tow truck was a little tense – like “when is someone in this sardine can going to snap?” But, when we were back on pavement and rolling toward home, I felt super duper relieved and blessed. And we had a good story to tell.

Moral of the story: Don’t drive your full-size van into the “parking lot” at Labus Christmas Tree Farm. Park on the peak of the driveway and carry your tree an extra 50 feet. And if you do get your whale-sized van stuck in the snow in Bangor, Wisconsin, call Rush Hour Towing directly and avoid the long wait on hold with AAA.