I love Christmas lights. I want to have the National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation house. Yes, I am that girl. So today, I reminded my husband that it’s now the weekend, and since he was “busy” last weekend, now would be a perfect time to put up Christmas lights.
Me: You should go outside and do the Christmas lights. They are still up from last year so you should just need to plug them in.
Him: It’s a lot more involved in that. And I’m going to just skip the lights this year.
(5 minutes pass)
He receives a text on his phone.
Him: Hey Bailey (our son), do you want to climb up the ladder and put up Christmas lights?
Me: Do it or you’re grounded.
My husband gets up from the couch, takes our son with him, and heads outside for what I believe to be putting up Christmas lights.
(4 hours pass)
I go outside to get the mail. It’s now dark. And my path to the mailbox is not illuminated by twinkling Christmas lights. What the heck. Husband, and son, nowhere in sight. But I see his truck two doors down at our friend’s house. What the heck x 2.
(30 minutes pass)
He walks in the door.
Me: Where the heck have you been for the past 4 hours?
Him: Oh I forgot I promised John I would work on his mother-in-law’s car today.
Me: Last weekend, you said it would be a 15 minute job.
Him: Yeah I also helped them get a Christmas tree.
Me: I have no lights outside. The neighbor put up their lights today. His lights are illuminating the entire street. We are in darkness. He even has an animated rocking horse thingy in his front yard.
Him: A rocking horse thingy?
Me: Yes. And you need to put up our blow-up penguin.
Him: It got holes in it last year, remember?
Me: Use duct tape.
Him: I don’t have any duct tape.
Me: You have a beard. And you’re a man. What kind of bearded man doesn’t have duct tape?
Him: I’ll put up the lights tomorrow.