The Tree is a Bit Brighter than Your Last College Bonfire

I am away from my primary computer.

My computer, which has become a bit of a dinosaur that moves at the speed of dirt and sits on my giant desk.

Instead, I am sitting on our sofa, using Hubs’ laptop. I am not so much a laptop fan, but Hubs not only embraces the laptop, he packs it with him wherever he goes.

It’s not a purse. It’s not even a satchel, like Indiana Jones carries. It’s a LAPTOP BAG. It’s okay for guys to carry laptop bags. It makes them look powerful and smart.

No matter.

We are attempting to deck the Jedi Manor halls this evening, so that Clark Griswold next door can see the twinkling lights on our tree from our living room window and leave us alone. Clark Griswold is policing the cul de sac, encouraging everyone to just go on ahead and get some outdoor lights up.

Mmm-hmm.

I think the neighborhood watch group gave up on the Jedi Manor long ago. It’s not that we’re Scrooges over here at the Manor; it’s just that HOLIDAY DECORATING! IT REQUIRES SO MUCH EFFORT! And then, just when you manage to fine-tune it all and get your lights to twinkle just so as they dangle off the rooftop, it’s suddenly December 26th and time to yank it all down.

Thankfully, someone from our cul de sac knows us well and tied a giant holiday ribbon around our mailbox yesterday.

With the free ribbon and the tree, we’ll consider our holiday decorating complete!

Hubs has fourteen miles of white lights strung throughout our living room, dining room and kitchen as he checks for burned-out bulbs and cries out, “The lighting of the tree this year will be nothing short of something flashy on the Vegas strip!”

Hubs’ motto is simple: Go huge or go home. Turn the tree into a beacon of light which can be seen from Mars, or just leave it alone, because WHY BOTHER?

We are the same family who uses a hand-held, propane torch to light our fireworks.

Clearly, we covet your prayers for our family.

So, while the boy and Hubs are making sure that every last light twinkles, exactly like Clark himself did, I decided to smack a quick post up on the World Wide Web.

I just had one tiny thing to address this evening.

Someone from Virginia found my blog yesterday by doing a Google search on this phrase:

“Is the Thanksgiving turkey any good yet?”

Oh, Virginia! The Jedi Family is brave. As I mentioned, we don’t even use punks on the 4th of July, because propane torches and bottle rockets are just too good of a combo. Hubs claims that safety goggles are for home improvement shows on HGTV, so that no one gets sued. We tackle ice-coated hills in two-wheel drive. But even we would not attempt to make soup out of the holiday turkey at this point in the game, because listen, Virginia. Botulism KILLS! It doesn’t matter if you’ve kept it in the refrigerator all this time or not. December 8th + Thanksgiving Turkey = Wicked Poor Choice. I hope I’ve been clear.
Sincerely,
Jedi Mama

And with that said, I need to help wrap lights around the tree so that UFOs can see the glow and land on our rooftop tonight.

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