A (white, not colored but that’s not the point) light bulb went off last night on my ride home from work. It was Wednesday night and as agreed upon Sunday, on Wednesday night, we would decorate the tree. It’s not really a matter of lights anymore, but a matter of control. We both want it. We’re both decision makers, we’re both pretty aggressive, and typically, we have very different visions. How should we string the lights, which angle of the tree looks best, how much water does a tree need… I’m not kidding when I tell you these are the roots (get it) of our Christmas tree fights.
So about this light bulb: I would take out all the usual stressors from our life, add some alcohol-induced cheer and life would go on. On the ride home from work, we were chatting on the phone and I suggested we skip cooking dinner. Cooking dinner is a big thing for us. It’s an every night thing for us, and while it’s worth the meal, it tends to stretch from the moment I get home from work, until the moment I head to bed. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the grocery store, cook dinner, clean up dinner, wash dishes and put away dishes. We decided on delivery Chinese food – he got a combo of chicken, beef and shrimp with vegetables, I got chicken with ginger, scallions and cashews. The other last thing I wanted to be, was completely sober, so I picked up a six pack of hard cider – Angry Orchard Apple Ginger.
I put on the Frank Sinatra/Bing Crosby Pandora station and by 9:30, there was a well-lit Christmas tree in the corner of the room , a colorfully-lit desk, six empty bottles of cider on the coffee table, two people with a Christmas buzz and and and, a partridge in a pear tree!
Now, for the real question, white lights or colored lights? Go.