We're throwing up the holiday decorations here at the Rogers Manor.
Bud's thrilled that he'll get a visit from Santa this year. He could probably use a nice, warm sweater to hide that bald belly.
Hubby was a tad reluctant to put up the Christmas lights. Last Sunday on our way back from church, I asked him when we could expect to see the display.
"I'm not putting up lights this year," he growled. "It's a pain in the butt."
Then, he scurried across the street and helped the neighbors hang their lights. I was so proud, especially as I surveyed the barren exterior of my own home and pictured myself teetering on the ladder.
Those lights were going up one way or another. I decided to call my dad and asked if he'd help me hang them.
The thought of Dad having to come over to take care of the job proved too embarrassing for Todd...just the effect for which I'd hoped.
So yesterday, without a word of protest, he got out the ladder and hung the lights.
But I'm still keeping Dad on standby after Christmas when it's time for them to come down.