Every year my sons love to decorate for Christmas. And I don’t use the word lightly. Every Christmas decoration we have is proudly displayed in every corner of the house. Doesn’t matter if it is a handmade item from school (four sons equal many handmade items) or a souvenir from our travels, it ends up either on the tree or or laid out somewhere.
This is not to mention the outside decorations. Think Griswalds! Think electrical box spinning like a top! Think street lights need not come on at night!
And every year I complain about the mess, how I feel so claustrophic (I don’t do well in disorganization or clutter) and probably take their joy out of the holiday.
Well, of course, this year has been no different. After warnings of ‘There will be NO presents for you if you burn the house down!’ and ‘The electrical bill has YOUR name on it this month!’ and ‘If you fall off that roof I am NOT taking you to the hospital!’ they just ignore me and do the work anyway.
Last night there was a knock on the door and a young man was standing there with a piece of paper in his hand. My first thoughts were that we had broken the law or some kind of city code, but he proceeded to tell us that our house had been selected as the winner of the “Breathtaking Decor” category of our city’s neighborhood decorating contest.
My ears are still ringing from all the whooping and hollering! Not to mention the smug looks! They told me this was the best Christmas present they could get this year. Hmmm, does that mean Santa can spend the rest of the Christmas money on things for herself? Works for me.
For a wonderful heartrending Christmas story, visit Mik’s blog. But warning, get your kleenex ready! Shows what the TRUE meaning of Christmas really is.
