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How Many Idiots Does It Take to String Lights on a Christmas Tree?

Candy's Column

How Many Idiots Does It Take to String Lights on a Christmas Tree?

If you’re wondering why Miss Skye’s mouth is agape, it’s because she is shocked her slow-witted parents, after many starts and stops, finally finished decorating the Christmas tree.  Also…?  She is trying to figure out how to stuff my entire hand in her mouth before I have time to object.

You would think that buying white Christmas lights would be a simple task, but no!  Did you know there are approximately forty-two thousand kinds of holiday lights, all of which are packaged in boxes that look EXACTLY the same?  And that these boxes sit in no particular order on the shelves at Target, already opened and thrown back by other similarly confused customers?

I sifted through the mess of lights for a good twenty minutes, looking in each and every box until I found the elusive white ones.  So don’t ask me how I ended up with three boxes of multi-colored net Christmas lights.  Really.  Don’t.  Mr. Candy already did and, well, you see the look on Skye’s face?  That was pretty much MY response.

I could have sworn I grabbed the right lights.  Then again, I also wore my sweater inside-out to Skylar’s doctor’s appointment last week (NURSE:  Did you MEAN to wear your sweater like that?), so I’m clearly not operating on a full tank these days.

Mr. Candy’s tank may have sprung a leak as well, because he ended up replacing my multi-colored net lights… with white lights on a WHITE WIRE.  And when I exchanged his white lights on a white wire with white lights on a green wire… I STRUNG THE LIGHTS ON THE TREE BACKWARD.  Meaning, I started with the wrong end, so I ended up with the female end of the lights to plug into the outlet.  I was so mad at myself, I did what any rational person who’d just been through three sets of lights would do:  insisted I had an extension cord that would make it work.

“No such extension cord exists,” Mr. Candy smirked.


Well, um, I must have misplaced that particular extension cord.  So we had to un-string the lights, wisely balling them up in a tangled mess, and re-string them in the direction that didn’t require my very magical and imaginary extension cord that plugs the female end of the lights into the outlet.

Just you wait, Skylar.  If we have this kind of trouble buying simple white lights, can you imagine the fun we’ll have assembling dollhouses and other toys with more parts than the Space Shuttle?  That look on your face will be the tip of the iceberg.  Also…?  Be sure to wear earplugs.

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Candy Kirby is the founder of The Laughing Stork and a professional fun-maker who will never stop chasing her lifelong dream: to find the Pomeranian or porn star after whom her parents must have named her. A humor columnist for Disney, Nickelodeon, Scary Mommy, Reductress and Redbook, she also used to be a staff writer for the soap opera, The Bold and the Beautiful, where she penned many scripts featuring prolonged heated stares and countless “Who’s the Daddy?” story lines. Candy lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two young kids and three rescue Persian cats, the latter of whom are the real brains behind this operation (so send all complaints to them).

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