Sunday, December 21, 2008

Color Christmas Lights


Tonight, Jamie has some friends up at the house. It's one of those parties where you have to have two X chromosomes to attend. Because neither Winston nor I meet this criterion, we have been banished to my office. Jamie gave me explicit instructions that I'm only to come out if I have to go to the bathroom or if Winston has to go to the bathroom. She'll bring me periodic refreshments and alert me if the house catches on fire. I'm a prisoner in my own home! Of course, Winston has become incorrigible as he's been cooped up back here for about half an hour as of the commencement of this post.

In preparation for this party, Jamie bought a couple of strands of those big, obnoxious colored Christmas lights and wanted me to hang them around the perimeter of our back porch. Easy enough. So last weekend while Jamie was working, I hung them up. Since it was pleasantly cool, I decided Winston should come out on the back porch with me as I worked. As we walked outside, he diligently attacked and chewed on my shoe strings (very common occurrence). He stopped though after about 30 seconds. Winston apparently became a little chilly and curled up under a chair. Perfect...he's out of the way.

I pulled out my drill, grabbed some eyehooks and my tape measure, did some quick mental calculations (75 lights to drape around approximately 38 feet of porch, but I only had 20 eye hooks), set up my four-foot step ladder, and I got to work. About 10 minutes later, I drilled the last hole, inserted the last eyehook, and hung the last strand of lights. Oh yes, they looked great!

Standing on my step ladder, I gazed around the porch. Jamie, who thinks that only bad things can happen when I use power tools, was going to be so proud!

Now I interpret a significant portion of the Bible literally. But this verse is not one that would have been on my list for literal interpretation. Yet it came to pass. As I was standing on my step ladder admiring my work, I hear Winston's little paws steadily beating the concrete. I turn around just in time to see out of the corner of my eye Winston lunge at my feet. As I was in somewhat of an awkward physical position, Winston's tackle basically made me stage-dive off the top of the step ladder onto the grass in my back yard.

I layed on the ground stunned for about ten seconds. Nothing seemed broken or irreparably harmed. As I got up, I looked around for Winston, but I didn't see him. I think he had a feeling he was about to get some "old fashion behind-the-wood-shed" discipline. There's no doubt I had a insatiable craving to give him that discipline. But when I found Winston hiding under one of my chairs on the back porch, I couldn't help but pick him up. He is just so lovable!

Now if you don't believe God exists, come up behind me and push me off a ladder. That's a sure fire way to get to meet your Maker. And I can assure you that the first question that you'll be asked is, "Where did you're face go?" You'll be able to respond, "Well Michael ripped it off before he killed me."

I put Winston back inside and tried to figure out why he unexplainedly lunged at my feet while I was on the step ladder. Best I can tell, I think he saw my shoe strings dangling around and they were just too appetizing to resist. Oh Winsty...

Apparently, none of the gals at the party were particularly impressed with the big, obnoxious colored Christmas lights I hung around the back porch (nobody said anything about them). They did give Winston a lot of attention though. I'll tell you what...I've about had my fill of that dog for tonight.

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