Any day now Herself is going to start nagging me about decorating the house.
This usually involves going out to the field and hacking down a few bushes and dragging them indoors. Fun, but messy.
Then there are the lights.
Those lights have it in for me. I hate the fucking things.
And if anyone mentions the word “Scrooge” I’ll ram a fistful of holly up their arse.
Every year I spend about three hours untangling them because they always manage to wrap themselves into knots, no matter how neatly I pack them.
Having untangled them, I string them out along the floor to test them.
Why is it that a set that was working perfectly last year always fails to work this year?
Naturally, the bastards who make the things use different bulbs for each set, so that any spares that I do have never fit.
Every year, I know I am going to have problems, so just to be on the safe side, I buy a new set.
We now have about ten sets of lights at this stage and, while I haven’t unpacked them yet, I know they won’t work. Of course I bought a spare set just in case, so I assume that one will be OK.
Nobody mentioned if Gormless was banning Christmas lights. It is the kind of idiotic thing he would do. China and America can pump a zillion tons of gas into the atmosphere, but not lighting my little 12V bulbs can save the world from destruction?
When herself starts moaning about the Christmas decorations, I’ll tell I can’t put them up.
If I light my Christmas lights, then the Maldives will vanish beneath the waves.
We can’t have that?