I have an incremental approach to decorating for the holidays. Tonight it was candles in the windows, and I had to use Lamaze breathing to get through the experience. I’m convinced we have over a hundred windows in our house, and I closed my eyes every time I plugged a candle in, afraid to see that moment of darkness that means I need another new bulb.
I had too much confidence in last year’s candles, sure that five spare bulbs would get me through my own grand illumination. No such luck. Every other candle pooped out on me, offering one spark of hope before going dark. To make the experience worse, in the background I heard the sounds of college football, and cursed the need for people to make things pretty.
Since I seemed to be missing clear tape, I held my candles down with the only thing I had available – duct tape. My candles now look more like the victims of abduction than the producers of illumination.
I realized that my fate now included something worse than plugging in candles; I would have to go to Ben Franklin to get more bulbs. More cursing ensued as I jumped in my car to drive thirty minutes to hell. I prayed that this late hour would mean the store would be empty, but God just laughed in my face. I walked in facing the craft creepers – those people that stalk the aisles of craft stores fondling every item in some weird, addictive way.
As I walked full speed ahead, a six foot tall woman blocked me with her basket, talking on her cell phone. Oblivious to my lilliputin-ish presence, I finally squeezed by and humiliated myself by asking a worker who was putting candles on the candle display where the candles were.
Once home, I spent another thirty minutes plugging in and lighting up my home. While completing my grand dillusionment, I missed an entire football game. Now I’m watching Virginia Tech, flipping back and forth to the Nebraska game. I hope people driving by the house enjoy the view, because I’m certainly enjoying mine.