About two weeks ago we decked our halls (we only have one hall, but the word ‘halls’ sounds better here), fireplace mantle, living room, kitchen, and bedrooms with Christmas lights. Carter was a bit disappointed that we did not string up lights in their bathroom but I felt I should draw the line somewhere. Now you would think with all these techno colored, glowing, twinkling, light chasing strands of lights in a house with a five and a three year old boy that we would be Christmas lit up twenty-four seven. That is where you would be wrong.
Of the many mantras in our house; your dirty clothes go in the hamper not next to the hamper, did you use soap and water, be nice to your brother, use your napkin not your sleeve, don’t waste energy; the last one seems to have stuck fast and hard. While they like the Christmas lights they consider them a waste of energy. No amount of explained will sway them. I walk into a room, plug in the lights and admire them. They walk into a room, admire the lights and unplug them. It is a vicious cycle.
Carter is especially diehard regarding energy conservation. On our way out of his speech therapist’s office last week, we had to walk by a small room set up with books and toys for kids to play with while they are in the waiting room. He sees no one is in there and quickly snakes his hand inside the room and flicks off the light. Then with an accusing tone he turns to his therapist and frowns “you waste eee-leck-tris-tee.”