I was given a friendly reminder that I’m overdue on posts, and well, I’m overdue on posts. Wish I had something creative to offer regarding my absence, like I forgot my password to this site or I’ve been trapped in tangled Christmas lights, but I got nothin. Instead, life just got busy.
I’ve missed writing.
It brings satisfaction to the end of my day, and I’ve made a point of pocketing daily observations to eventually share, including when my 5-year-old asked Indianapolis Mayor Greg Ballard last week if ‘he had a girlfriend.’ His response eased my humiliation: ‘Well, if I do, I’d better not tell my wife.‘ Let’s hear it for the Mayor’s sense of humor.
Changing the channel, Thanksgiving came and went, happy to be with family, but a family that is incomplete without my father. Memories of dad were fondly recalled as we decorated our tree over the weekend. My son handed me an ornament with a photo of my father inside. He kissed Dad’s face, saying ‘I miss you, Papaw,’ yet tears were quickly dried by Greg’s frustration over the concept of a prelit tree, as in 900 lights, with 600 that work. My husband suddenly channeled a little Clark Griswold, slightly losing his sanity as he ranted about the two dark sections of our tree and threatening to throw the entire thing in the trash. I propose these prelit trees actually be called ‘Prelit: But you’ll still add lights, Moron.’ Seems fitting, don’t ya think?
So, we’re the house with the tree that doesn’t light up in the middle, at least for now.