CHRISTMAS DECOR SHOWDOWN - Opening segment (Scroll down for earlier chapters)

 

     I was out for a drive recently, when I noticed a bumper sticker on the car in front of me.  As I got closer, I could see P-E-A-C-E in big red letters.  I had to laugh.  It was obvious this person had never dealt with Christmas lights.     

     I have spent years attempting to negotiate a peace agreement with Christmas lights, and I can tell you this: It would be easier negotiating with terrorists.

     Christmas is supposed to be a wonderful time of year with all its lights and good cheer.  Even I, myself, will attempt to exhibit good cheer, but it usually ends when I pull the Christmas lights out of the box.  “Leave us in the box where it’s warm,” they’ll say.  “We don’t like hanging out in the cold.”  

     “I’m here on orders from the General…my wife,” I counter, “So come with me.” 

     Every year I try to be prepared for a confrontation with Christmas décor, but nothing can prepare you for the attack of the lights.     

     This past Christmas they were especially disagreeable.  As soon as I had gotten them out of the box and began strangling…I mean untangling them, we got into a shouting match that included a lot of pushing and shoving.  The neighbors called the police to come and separate us.  I thought for sure they would cite the lights for assault and battery, and throw them in the back of their car; but they just seemed amused that the lights had me in a take-down hold.  They laughed and drove off, leaving me to fend for myself.  I tried to shake my head.  “No justice,” I gasped. 

     The lights seem to exhibit much better behavior around my wife.  She will take them out of the box and they will say, “Oh, you don’t need to untangle us; we can untangle ourselves.  Then she will plug them in and they will lay there, smiling and shining brightly. 

     Every year she wants me to hang them from the eaves.  I prefer hanging shirts from doorknobs.   

     This year she noticed some of our lights were missing.  “Where did we put those lights?” she asked.       

     “Those were the lights that rode with me to the shooting range,” I answered.  “They got spooked by the sound of my high-powered assault rifle and ran off into the woods.  I’m surprised they haven’t found their way back.”   

     “Well, I’m going to go out and buy more lights,” Connie said.

     “Wait! I’ll go with you.  I need to buy more doorknobs.” 

     “If you keep putting up doorknobs, I won’t have any more room for hanging my pictures,” moaned Connie. 

     “Doorknobs are so much easier than lights,” I answered, “And shirts look so nice hanging from a doorknob.  Besides, you can have the entire closet to yourself, and we won’t have to add on.  I can lay my slacks over the back of a chair.”

     “That means you’ll have to go out and buy more chairs,” said Connie. 

     Next Christmas, we’re going to have an open house and give tours…”Look at those nice shirts on the doorknobs…and what a great-looking pair of slacks on the back of that chair.”  We might even get some canned food donations.  I just hope Connie doesn’t ask me to string lights from my shirts.

 

 

To be continued...check back soon