Eight years ago when my wife and tied the knot, I thought we’d never argue about anything.

I figured if there were any difference in opinion, she’d just quickly come around and see that I was obviously right. No need to argue.

I know. I was young and foolish.

All it took was our first Christmas as a married couple to prove that to me.

While I was still blinded with newlywed bliss, I let Jennifer talk me into going to a tree farm and cutting our own Christmas tree.

It will be fun, she told me.

It could be, I thought. I mean we get to put on flannel shirts and work a chainsaw.

Our apartment will smell so good she told the guy that constantly battles allergies.

I suppose it will, I thought. They do make tree-scented air fresheners after all.

We can start a tradition, she said.

Whoa! Tradition? That means year after year.

And thus began our annual debate — artificial tree or real tree.

I’m an artificial tree guy. My wife is obviously a real tree gal.

With the exception of the two years we lived in Almaty, Kazakhstan, we have had a real tree. For those of you keeping score, that’s 5-2. This year I’m changing my strategy in hopes of finally landing a win, and in the process, my beloved artificial tree.

You see, along with being a real tree person, my wife is also cheap — eh, I mean thrifty. So my new strategy is to play to her penny-pinching penchant.

I’ll outline that in the current economic climate, artificial trees seem to be a wise investment. By going with an artificial tree we eliminate the recurrent, annual expense of a real Christmas tree.

Artificial trees also don’t need water. Yes, I figured that out all on my own. So the water bill will be a little lower. Chi-ching.

We also won’t have to use the electricity to vacuum up all the needles that are going to fall off the real tree. A penny saved is a penny earned.

It’s a can’t miss plan, right?

Who am I kidding? We’ll be one of the families that buys one of the approximately 33 million real Christmas trees projected to sold this year.

See you at the tree farm this weekend. I’ll be the guy wearing a flannel shirt and sneezing.