What Do Your Neighbors Think Of Your Outdoor Christmas Lights?

 

Marian Fitzgerald was in the kitchen of her suburban home preparing for her family’s evening of Christmas light viewing. It was a Fitzgerald family tradition. Each year they chose one night about a week before Christmas to drive around looking at people’s Outdoor Christmas Lights.

Marian filled two large thermoses with hot chocolate and packed them in a paper grocery sack with some foam cups and a tin of gingerbread cookies. She handed the sack to her husband, Christopher, who was headed to the garage to heat up their SUV.

“Kids! Are you ready?” Marian shouted up the stairs. The Fitzgeralds had three children—Morgan was eight, Nathaniel was twelve, and Paige was sixteen. Morgan and Nathaniel came barreling down the stairs and raced through the kitchen to the garage. Paige, however, was a typical teenager. She walked heavily down the stairs—her laptop tucked under her arm—and skulked through the kitchen, clearly lamenting being forced to participate in the family Christmas outing.

“Oh, Paige, really,” Marian scolded. “We’re going to look at Christmas lights in the car. No one will see you with your tragically ‘uncool’ parents. And what are you doing with that laptop? You won’t even be able to see it in the dark.”

“The laptop is its own light source, Mom,” Paige haughtily replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, whatever, your brother and sister are waiting in the car. Let’s go.”

Christopher backed the SUV out of the driveway, and the family was off. They didn’t spend a lot of time looking at the Christmas lighting on their own street because they’d been seeing those lights since the day after Thanksgiving. Christopher drove to the end of the street and turned left. Then, they drove along slowly looking at all the outdoor Christmas lights and decorations.

“Oh, Mommy, I like the white Christmas lights!” Morgan exclaimed pointing at one of the houses.

“I know you love the white ones, honey,” Marian replied. “Those are icicle lights. See how they look like they’re dripping off the roof? Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yeah,” Morgan cooed.

Paige sighed heavily and probably rolled her eyes, but it was too dark to tell for sure.

“Paige,” Christopher said sternly, “just because you’re going through some ‘teen angst’ phase doesn’t mean you have to wreck a nice evening for the rest of the family.”

“Okay, who wants hot chocolate?” Marian interjected in an attempt to prevent an argument. She opened the paper sack and poured hot chocolate for herself, Christopher, Nathaniel and Morgan. “Paige, would you like some?”

“Fine,” Paige replied flatly. She looked out the window at some mini Christmas lights strung across a row of hedges while trying to hide her approval of them from her family.

“You know what I’d like to see?” Christopher questioned his wife and children. “Some of those Christmas LED lights all synced up to the music. Wasn’t there a neighbor who did that last year? That was really neat. I wish I knew how to do that.” Then, he asked Marian, “Pass me one of those gingerbread cookies, will you, honey?”

Paige was now experiencing internal conflict. Like most teenagers, she did not want to show interest in anything family-related. But, also like most teenagers, she believed she knew everything and wanted to take every opportunity to exhibit her knowledge. In this case, she knew where her dad could get the Christmas lighting information he wanted.

Her compromise with herself was to share the information in a begrudging tone: “Oh my gosh, Dad! You’re so lame! Don’t you know that you can find anything online? I’m sure you can buy Christmas LED lights and learn how to set them up.” The next thing the Fitzgeralds heard from Paige was the sound of her typing. Then, she surprised them by leaning forward and turning on the interior light in the SUV.

She thrust her laptop toward her dad and said, “Look, here’s a webpage called ‘decorating outdoor Christmas trees with lights instructions’! And here’s a Christmas lights music video.” She clicked the link to the video, and Christopher pulled over, so he could watch the Christmas lighting animation. “And you didn’t want me to bring my laptop,” Paige condescendingly said to her mother.

“Well,” Marian responded, “I still think that could wait until we get home.” She handed Paige a gingerbread cookie. “There are plenty more Christmas lights to see down the next street.”

For one brief second, Marian thought she saw Paige smile, but again, it was too dark to tell.

 

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