Here we go again...
Before we get into this, I want to make it clear that I am not Christian. I'm also not Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindi, or anything else that you have likely heard of. Oh, I'm not Wiccan, either. Exactly what my faith is doesn't matter, so long as you understand that I'm not Christian.
I have always liked Christmas. I like the trees, the decorations, the food, and all the rest. Yeah, yeah...that's not what Christmas is about. Yeah, right...put Christ back in Christmas. Whatever. Remember that I don't believe in all of that.
The fact is that I like the season.
My husband, Jack, is Christian, though he doesn't "practice" it much. And Jack likes Christmas decorations, too.
Lots of them.
He dug out the decorations the other day—all 37 boxes of them—and decided that we don't have enough lights. I guess he's right...I mean, Las Vegas has more lights than we do. So he made a trip to Wal-Mart with both of the girls in tow. He needed someone to help carry the lights and help him load them in the truck. I declined.
When Jack got home with the lights, I saw it was a good idea that he took the girls with him. He needed both Amanda and Debbie to get the bags and boxes all in the back of the truck. Oh, I forgot to mention that "the truck" is a Ford F-350 with 4-doors, a long (8') bed, dual tires in the rear, and a diesel motor. The back seat was full of stuff and the bed was more than half full.
He wouldn't tell me how much he spent. Jack's reasoning was basically that since I never tell him how much I spend on clothes or jewelry, he doesn't need to tell me what he spent on lights and such. Silly man. Amanda told me...$976.22.
Oh, the money doesn't bother me. Not even a little.
The fact that when he turns the lights on that half of San Diego county will go into a brown-out condition is a bit off-putting.
So today Jack started to put up the lights. He'll be at it for days, and that's just the first run. There will be repeated trips to get each strand just perfect. There will be more trips to replace bulbs that are out. And then there is the thing I am really worried about...
Last year, Jack rented a thing called a "cherry picker" to do the lights in the trees. It looks just like the one in the linked picture. A big, truck-mounted gizmo that looks like it will fall over at any moment.
Now I love Jack to death. He is, as far as I am concerned, the perfect husband and father. He's brave as evidenced by the fact that he was a SEAL in the Navy and worked for the Secret Service for a while. But he has never worked in construction, and maybe it's just me, but a cherry picker looks like construction equipment. That makes me wonder about just how bright Jack really is.
And he's rented it again for this year.
And hired some guys to help him.
And bought about ten cases of beer.
Men, heavy equipment, electrical devices, and beer usually means there is trouble ahead. All they need is some dynamite.
After all, the last words of a redneck are, "Hey, fellas! Watch this!"
Melodee Aaron, Erotica Romance Author
Melodee's Books at BookStrand