I was probably 14 years old when my girlfriend/neighbor and I decided we were old enough and definitely big enough to go up into my garage rafters and get down the Christmas decorations. It was Friday evening and our parents had gone out for dinner leaving us to entertain ourselves. To our credit we safely got all the boxes down, including that beautiful aluminum tree. We hauled everything into the living room and begin emptying the boxes. Slowly (ever so slowly) we put together that glorious tree (my eyes are rolling!) It was time consuming since we forgot to read the directions - (remember we're 14), and we continuously put the branches in the wrong holes. Once we realized they were numbered it went much faster!
The hot pink balls were added, the tree skirt was wrapped around the base and the final Piece De Reistance, the color wheel! It was put in the corner, plugged in and turned on! It was done --- or so we thought. While we were placing other Christmas items around the house my parents came home. Now mind you, there are boxes everywhere, it looked like a bomb hit the living room, AND we left the garage door up and all the lights on in the garage. Yep, my dad was mad as a hatter. And we were doomed. My girlfriend was like another daughter to my parents so we were both in the hot seat.
We heard "you could have broke your neck on that ladder, someone could have gone into the garage and taken my tools, what were you thinking?" And on and on it went. We were sorry, and quickly cleaned up our decorating mess, and hid in my bedroom.
By morning daddy had cooled off, he had draped that lovely angel hair on the tree and offered to make us pancakes. Where was my mom you ask?? She was smart, she stayed clear of the firing line until the coast was clear!
Tomorrow, a dog, chocolate and Christmas Mass ...
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