For almost twenty years I have given my husband, Alex grief about the way he decorated for Christmas. Some of my classic lines included, “You put the lights on the tree so tight, it looks like you are taking it hostage,” and “there are so many blinking lights on that tree I’m going to have a seizure.” I was brutal but I thought I was pretty funny.
But it was Alex’s outdoor decorating that really lit me up.. First, he would blanket our house with every strand of lights he could find in the dollar store, nothing matched they just had to be bright. Every thing was sagging and swooping, hanging and dangling. There were clumps and dark bald spots. Every year it looked as though a giant Elf threw up Christmas lights on our house.
We all teased Alex constantly about his light hanging skills. But I was the guilty bully who lead the charge. The kids only joined in because I started the teasing.
Well, this year Alex has just been too tired or too busy to hang lights. Or maybe he’s just tired of us making fun of his efforts.
I waited for a week but it became obvious Alex wasn’t going to hang any lights outside, so I picked up the staple gun and found a ladder. On a cold Sunday afternoon I hung our Christmas light. Everything looks lovely, the corners are square, the lines are taunt and even. I did a good job.
But it’s just not the same, I miss our Christmas mess, it was vibrant, garish, brilliant and ludacris. It was Hampoland.
I regret my smart mouth every time I turn up our driveway. I’m sorry Alex. The only highlight, I left three Halloween ghost hanging on the deck. It’s my literary salute…get it? They are the the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future from the Christmas Carole.
e-mail me or comment, tell me who hangs the lights at your house and who has a big mouth. firstname.lastname@example.org