Our house is decorated and I must say that it is easily the best house in the whole neighborhood. What sets it apart from the others is its simple elegance. As much as I would love a giant animatronic Santa Claus that speaks in a robotic monotone anytime someone comes near it, I really feel like our decorations capture the true spirit of the season in a way that robots just can't seem to replicate (yet). And who is responsible for masterminding this perfection? My dad, of course.
Right now, in homes all across the neighborhood, wives are berating their husbands for their failure to measure up to the standards set by my dad.
"Why can't you be more like Lou Perry?" they ask in their shrill, harpy voices.
The husbands look down at their own feet and whisper: "I don't know."
Also, I would like to point out the conspicuous lack of presents beneath our tree. I fully expect Santa et al. to have this problem taken care of by December 25. If he doesn't, I'm going to have to seriously question how my tax dollars are being spent.
Even if Tubby Claus doesn't pull through, at least I'll have the best decorated house in the neighborhood. Do you hear that, guy-who-hangs-out-in-his-garage-even-though-it-is-the-dead-of-winter? Our decorations put yours to shame! How about you, guy-who's-forty-but-still-wears-his-baseball-caps-backwards? How cool do you feel after you have stared unblinking into the perfect storm of christmas lights, decorations, and awesomeness that is our home? Pretty crummy, I bet. And you, guy-who's-always-challenging-neighbors-to-a-"foot-race"? You may be fast, but you are otherwise untalented! Behold my reaction to your Christmas spirit:
3 comments:
what's the matter Lucy, your dad too scared to climb on the roof???? -giant
Who needs to climb on the roof when you have a perfectly good giant around to do your dirty work?
yep, walked right into that one
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