THE EMPTY CORNER, and the Griswolds

I try not to use the boy's bathroom unless its an emergency.  Yesterday presented an emergency and I rushed in, making sure not to look in the corner or under the tank... 'Don't look... Just do your business and get out!' I coached myself.  'Don't look... don't look.'

Too late, I looked.

The corner was empty.  The spider was gone.  A feeling of relief washed over me.  And I was happy that the spider was gone too.

But then an dreadful thought occured to me.  Ever the pessimist, ever the worrier, I began to wonder... okay, if the spider is gone, where is it?  What if it joined up with the spider behind the toilet, below my tuffet?  What if they did the 'humpty'?  What if they had babies... millions and billions of hungry black spiders with eight beady eyes and eight hairy noses/feet?

That was my fastest trip to the throne in history!  In and out in 30 seconds flat!

We are surrounded by the Griswolds.  Everyone in our town must be related in one way or another to them; for every house, every yard and garage, even the mailboxes, are decked out in festive Christmas decor.   Its like 'Griswoldville'.  At night it is a winter wonderland, aglow in bright strings of lights, animated wire reindeer and huge, glowing inflatable snow globes and Santa Clauses.  I feel bad at night for my yard, the House of Oompas, is dark with the exception of the bare porch light, still draped with remnants of last year's Halloween glow-in-the-dark spider webbing.  There are no brightly blinking lights in the windows, just the glow of the dining room light through the gap in the curtains.  The only Christmasy thing on the quarter acre lot is the tall Colorado blue spruce in the front yard.

But during the day I feel somewhat better for during the day while my yard takes on a more 'Country Christmas' appeal, with a tall pine in the center of the snow covered ground.  All through the town lies the carcasses of the huge inflatable yard decorations, looking like the after math of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade gone terribly wrong.  Deflated snow globes form wide puddles on the ground.  A bright red mound marks where Santa once stood so jolly and plump just the night before.  Zig zag strands of green icicle lights hang down starkly against the backdrop of the eves, their glowing tips extinguished for the day.  Reindeer stand frigid in the cold, no warm glow from the lights intertwined in its wire body.

At least my grand Colorado Blue Spruce Christmas tree still looks good in the daylight.  Yep, the Christmas spirit is alive and well here, no matter how dull it may appear from the outside at night.

But next year... next year we're going ALL out.  And the Griswolds will seem dim in our shadow!  Yeah, I know... we say that every year, but seriously... next year will be our year to shine.  This year we will be content with driving around and enjoying the efforts and electric bills of our neighbors.