So Sunday night, Sparky and I were at Home Depot – because of course, we leave all home improvement projects to the last freakin minute…
I was coming off a two day cleaning/shopping/decorating frenzy. I was exhausted and on the verge of deliria, so as he trotted off to the lumber aisle I wandered into the Xmas department. I was mesmerized by all the shiny, sparkly stuff… most especially the ginormous inflatable snow globe with the sparkles flying around inside it… you can get lost staring into one of those. I know I was getting loopy because I was thinking this was just what my yard needed.
I stepped back to appreciate its gloriousness and bumped into this…
A manger. Complete with Joseph, Mary, the three Wise men and You-know-who. All of it inflatable.
Now, it’s been a while since I attended church on any kind of regular basis, but I’m pretty sure this falls under that Mortal Sin clause. There must be something in there about “Thou shalt not blow up (or deflate) the baby Jesus.”
There is something so wrong about this.
Wrong and yet...
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The trends seem to have cycles. They don't change as often as clothing fashions, but every few years there's a new big thing and everyone who's anyone has to have it.
For years it was those white wicker Zombie Reindeer. Some folks still have those. I'm ok with those now, but that first year they appeared, they were EVERYWHERE! Herds of them all over lawns. Some were even motion-activated so when you went by, they'd turn their heads. Creepy.
This year, there are Vampire Inflatables sprouting up from lawns everywhere here. You know the ones. Ginormous Santas, Snowmen, and Reindeer that litter the lawn like corpses all day and magically inflate and light up at dark. Vampires. Who else would think that dead Santa on the lawn all day is attractive?
And of course, the Bear has his Santa hat on and a Christmas flag speared through the heart. Each year he is joined by Radioactive Santa. Now, when we originally bought the house, the neighbor's garage was adjacent to ours at the end of a long driveway. Each year, they'd put Santa on the roof and light him up. Son O'Mine would wave to Santa each night. Cute stuff.
However, in the way of the suburbs, things changed. We put on an addition to the house. So within months, the neighbors built a big two-car-two-story garage in front of the old one. We didn't really think much of it, till the night of the day after Thanksgiving.
They put Santa (same Santa 25 years later - CT peeps are crazy, but thrifty) up on the roof of the new garage (which is now in a direct line with our bedroom window) and jammed a bazillion watts up his ass.
From Thanksgiving to New Years, we have to keep our bedroom drapes closed tight now, or Sparky and I get sunburned while we sleep.
I'm considering lead-lined shades - do they come in robin's egg blue?
Monday, December 6, 2010
Son O'Mine turned 23. Which makes me … older than 23.
Sparky's football team won their bowl game. So now they are the New England Prep School champs for their league.
And football season is over for this year. Now we get to do things I like – things we’ve been putting off since August.
It was a long season of Sparky being busy 7 days a week, trying to schedule any and all family occasions around practice and games.
In the end, Son O'Mine and I traveled over two hours into the hinterlands of Massachusetts to sit on a blanket on a hill in sub-zero weather to watch them win (I’m pretty sure Massachusetts is above the arctic circle).
Our team is a second-half team. They like to mess with you - they play kind of crappy till the half. Then they spend the second half wiping up the field with the other team. So not only was it freezing cold, it was emotionally exhausting. They put us through this every week. The championship game was no different. 14-14 at the half. 49-20 final score.
But those home games rocked. Especially the tailgating food. Man, those parents put on a spread. We’re not talking burgers and dogs (although those were present), no… we’re talking lasagna, mac and cheese, chili, chicken gumbo, pulled pork and truckloads of barbecued ribs to die for. Oh yeah, I still dream about those ribs.
And I miss the music – they played Flo-Rida and Will I Am’s “Ayer” every time we scored a touchdown.
Cause nothing quite says ‘Elite Connecticut Prep School’ like a gaggle of chubby football moms bedecked in Lands End fleece singing:
"OH HOT DAMN! THIS IS MY JAM!!!"
To be honest, I’m looking forward to next year.
But don’t tell Sparky. I don’t want to lose my Coach’s wife Saint status.