Family traditions were important in our house, and one was more appreciated than our annual trip to the woods for the perfect Christmas tree. "Dad, can we watch when you trim  it?" my eldest son ,John ,asked on the way home. "I won't be cutting this year," my husband said." You and your brother Dan are old enough to measure things, fit the tree to the stand and do it by yourselves. Think you boys can handle it?" They seemed to _ in their chairs at the thought of such an amazing responsibility. "We can handle it," Dan promised. We won't let you down." A few days before Christmas, Dan and John rushed in after school. They gathered the tools they'd need and brought them out of yard, where the tree waited. I left the older boys to their work and brought David inside for his early supper. A moment later I heard the happy sounds as the boys carried the trees into the living room. Then I heard the sound become dead silence. I hurried out to them. The tree was too short. John crossed his arm tight across his chest. His eyes were filled with angry tears. The tree was central to our holiday, but it was not what I worried about. I didn't want the boys to feel ashamed every time they looked at it. We had a terrible problem on our hands. I couldn't lower the ceiling, and I couldn't raise the floor either. There was no way to repair the damage. If I couldn't fix the problem, maybe I could get creative with it. A thought came to my mind, which turned to the solution. I followed them back into the living room.. "We can't make the tree taller," I said. "But we can put it on a higher position."  Dan turned his head sideways, measuring the distance with his eyes . "We can put it on the coffee table and put the lights and decorations on before we lift it up . Thus, we won't need a ladder. It just might work! Let's try it!" When my husband got home and looked at the big tree on top of the coffee table, Dan and John held their breath. "What a good idea!" he declared, as if the boys had gone beyond all his expectations. "Why didn't I ever think of such a thing ?" John broke into a grin. Dan's chest swelled with pride. David squealed. Who trimmed the Christmas trees this year?
David The writer The children The writer's husband
Question: Family traditions were important in our house, and one was more appreciated than our annual trip to the woods for the perfect Christmas tree. "Dad, can we watch when you trim  it?" my eldest son ,John ,asked on the way home. "I won't be cutting this year," my husband said." You and your brother Dan are old enough to measure things, fit the tree to the stand and do it by yourselves. Think you boys can handle it?" They seemed to _ in their chairs at the thought of such an amazing responsibility. "We can handle it," Dan promised. We won't let you down." A few days before Christmas, Dan and John rushed in after school. They gathered the tools they'd need and brought them out of yard, where the tree waited. I left the older boys to their work and brought David inside for his early supper. A moment later I heard the happy sounds as the boys carried the trees into the living room. Then I heard the sound become dead silence. I hurried out to them. The tree was too short. John crossed his arm tight across his chest. His eyes were filled with angry tears. The tree was central to our holiday, but it was not what I worried about. I didn't want the boys to feel ashamed every time they looked at it. We had a terrible problem on our hands. I couldn't lower the ceiling, and I couldn't raise the floor either. There was no way to repair the damage. If I couldn't fix the problem, maybe I could get creative with it. A thought came to my mind, which turned to the solution. I followed them back into the living room.. "We can't make the tree taller," I said. "But we can put it on a higher position."  Dan turned his head sideways, measuring the distance with his eyes . "We can put it on the coffee table and put the lights and decorations on before we lift it up . Thus, we won't need a ladder. It just might work! Let's try it!" When my husband got home and looked at the big tree on top of the coffee table, Dan and John held their breath. "What a good idea!" he declared, as if the boys had gone beyond all his expectations. "Why didn't I ever think of such a thing ?" John broke into a grin. Dan's chest swelled with pride. David squealed. Who trimmed the Christmas trees this year?
A. David
B. The writer
C. The children
D. The writer's husband
Answer: