Merry Cussin' Christmas

It’s Christmas, that time of year when we spend money on people who don’t need a single damned thing, drag box after box of decorations out of the attic until our house literally pukes Christmas, and, most importantly of all, when the more insane among us indulge in our once-a-year foray into exterior illumination. Usually that exterior illumination thing is the job of my husband. He’s more creative, better at it, possesses a better grasp of the concept of electrocution, and finally doesn’t effin hate it as much as I do. I find it to be an exercise in creative cussing.

This year, due to his impending knee surgery, rather than turn our house into a homing beacon for the shuttle, my husband chose to reorganize the inside of our house, i.e., throw out the old shit from our cabinets and closets. I, being the good and dutiful wife, stepped up to the plate, took one for the team and tackled the outside Christmas lights.

I’m here to tell you that if you should decide at any point in your life that you could use a refresher course in loud, creative, inventive, spontaneous cursing, here’s the plan for you. It works. I swear. It works and I have the scars to prove it all over my forearms and the backs of my hands. Give it a whirl.

Your step by step instructions to world class potty mouth are as follows:
1. Look out your back door and decide that the 12 foot wall of holly trees lining the left side of your patio behind your brick and slate bar and behind your honkin huge Weber gas grill would look really pretty with twinkle lights poked all through them.

2. Look at the sky and decide that it's not THAT cold and what's a little rain.

3. Tote all the outdoor lights in your possession outdoors.

4. Notch the end of a yard stick because you've gotten this brilliant idea, your second one of the day, that you can merely "poke" the lights into the branches with the yard stick.

5. Bundle up and turn on the outdoor speakers so you can listen to Christmas music, drink coffee with one hand, poke lights with the other, and be festive.

6. Plug in the first strand of lights to test them. Look at em all funny like when they don't work, like you weren't actually expecting that to happen. Check each bulb. Plug them in again.

7. Chuck them out into the yard and get another set. Test them. Grin when they work.

8. Approach carnivorous holly row, plug lights in to THAT outlet and begin poking wires into branches. Try again. And again. Cut notch bigger. Try again. Cuss.

9. Set down coffee and climb your butt up on top of the bar and start poking again. Cuss. Shove lights into branches with your bare hands. Remember you should have gotten gloves and cuss again.

10. Cuss some more when your hand comes out with 3 holly leaves clinging to your skin because the pointy ends are embedded in your hand.

11. Continue looping and poking. And cussing.

12. Get second strand of lights and sigh when you realize you've really only moved about 12 inches down the row of bushes.

13. Plug in lights. Glare at them like you mean it. Consider checking each bulb. Unplug them and chuck them out into the yard. Plug in another set.

14. Continue poking lights into branches and removing holly spears from your skin and scream as the lights that worked 10 seconds ago alllll go out.

15. Shake light strand vigorously until lights come back on again. Gingerly continue shoving lights into bushes.

16. Pinwheel arms and clutch holly bush in arms as you realize you've come to the absolute no-more-room end of the bar. Balance, look right and realize there is still a 6 foot stretch of holly bushes yet to be completed.

17. Remove pointy holly things from neck and forehead.

18. Slither off edge of bar and schlep out to shed and get the really tall ladder.

19. Drag 500 pound grill out of the way, climb up ladder you swore you’d never ever climb again as long as you lived, steel yourself, grab a hand full of lights and cram them into the holly. Scream and THEN cuss when you realize you were just IN the shed where the leather work gloves are located and left them there. Shove in another hand full of wires.

20. Get to edge of patio and realize holly bushes continue 3 more feet out into flower bed.

21. Wonder if you can electrocute your stupid self because it's started to rain, cuss, realize you'll ever finish if you stop now, and try to balance ladder in a combination of stone pavers, mulch and grass.

22. Climb gingerly up ladder and leap off to the right because you know it’s nothing but pavers to your left when ladder starts to be uncooperative.

23. SLAM ladder down into the mulch and grass and climb back up, rapidly poking, screaming, bleeding, cussing and balancing before leaping off ladder again.

24. Kick ladder.

25. Wish desperately that you'd worn heavier shoes.

26. Suck on hand wounds while standing back to admire your handiwork.

27. Drag grill back in place, throw ladder back into shed, find tweezers.

28. Walk into house and bellow at family to get the hell out there and admire the beautiful thing you've done for them for the holiday.

29. Find the vodka.

Merry Christmas.