Finding My True Post

Your hint led me straight to the corner of the room, and there it stood—tall, fragrant, and covered in green needles. I stepped carefully onto the skirt at its base and began my quiet ascent, gripping the bristly faux boughs with both felt mittens. Branch by branch, I made my way right to the middle tier, my favorite post of all. Nestled firmly against the sturdy wooden trunk between two glass globes, I tucked my striped knees up and tested the bough beneath me. It held steady. From here, the entire room is in perfect, quiet view, ready for the nightly report.