Lights when I was a kid. We would climb into the car and drive around looking at lights. And that was the best part of Christmas for me.
Christmas in general for me as a kid sucked. There were so many politics. So many rules. You had to appear surprised and happy to receive really sucky gifts. You had to appear not too surprised and happy when you received really cool gifts. [That might make the sucky gift people feel bad.] And, an awful lot of those gifts were, well, sheets. Seriously. My mother’s relatives would ask what should they get me for Christmas. And she would say, Sheets. So that is what I got as a little kid for Christmas. Sheets.
Just how fucking excited is a little kid supposed to get over sheets? Also I was not exactly a stupid child. I got my mother pulled out the household list when Christmas rolled around and probably I was just lucky I was getting sheets instead of dry wall. But still.
[Also someone really REALLY owes me an apology still for that sack of potatoes.]
But I really loved the lights time. It was not Christmas Eve. It was not Christmas morning. It was not Christmas day. The lights came at night. When you just drove around looking. Soaking them up. You could just take every little piece of them inside you and save them as a part of you.