According to legend, every year my grandma asks my grandpa to put lights up on this outside of the house and he "refuses." She'll ask and he'll use a valid reason why he won't do it. And she gets flustered. It's not that he doesn't want lights up, it's that he likes to tease her before he puts them up.
And now my parents do the same thing.
On Tree Day (the day after Thanksgiving) my mom wants my dad to brave the sub zero temperatures and he putzes around for a while not putting them up. A few days go by and there are still no lights. The thing is, I really think my dad LOVES having lights on the house, but getting them up there is sort of an ordeal...and it's more fun to tease my mom until her head explodes.
This year I was pretty sure that we wouldn't do lights on our little house. Was I sad about the lack of blinking festivity? A little. Was I perfectly aware of how deep our strings of lights were under Mt. Cardboard box in the garage? Abundantly. It just didn't seem worth the hassle.
Which is why a small tear left the corner of my right eye the other day when I pulled into our street after a long, cold day at work and saw this:
(He may or may not have forgotten that we actaully have 4 posts on our front porch...)
And from the inside of the house, admiring the lights:
I guess I'm like mother, and like grandmother...I just LOVE Christmas lights on my house!