Christmas Lights



DAD is cooking dinner, chopping vegetables on a countertop facing toward the great room. ANN enters through a hallway on the side between the great room and the kitchen carrying a backpack which she tosses haphazardly on the floor.


ALEXA, turn off the downstairs lights.




The overhead lights dim and the room is illuminated by several strings of colorful lights strung along the tops of upper cabinets, framing windows and a fireplace, and laying on furniture.

DAD stops chopping vegetables and cocks his head inquisitively at ANN.

ANN looks around the great room.


I wanted to see the Christmas light.


Oh. Well, I’m not done. I still have more.

ANN gasps and turns her head slowly toward DAD her eyes wide.



You do?


(mocking being shocked)

Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?


The End

This is the guy who has nails on the top of his cabinets and hooks around the inside of his windows all year even though they are only used for five or so weeks.

This is the guy who has several gallon-sized Ziplock bags that rest most of the year in a plastic bin in the basement. They have notes written on them like “hutch” and “fireplace” and “side window – inside” and “side window – outside”.

This is the guy who every year when the “after Christmas” clearance sales begin, (usually a few days before Christmas), picks up one or two strings of lights, decorations and sometimes even another (fake) tree.

Really, ANN?

The difference this year, (which I must note does not include finding a place to put a “new” string of lights as that is the norm), is Mr. Pickles the robot vacuum. With things like tree skirts and a train set and several cords I have a feeling without careful preparation he will live up to his name and end up in a pickle…

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