We are Christmas lights people. We are the crazy people who drive around every Christmas looking for lights. We don’t care where they are, or what color the lights are, or how gaudy they are. We just love Christmas lights.
This year was no different. It has long been a family tradition to pile into as few cars as we can to save money, and drive to James Island County Park for the Festival of Lights. We were all looking forward to it and for our youngest grandson who is nine months old, this would be his first experience with lights. For the 2–3-year-olds, it would be the first Christmas light experience they could talk about.
First came the decision about who was going in what cars. Since the stupid county park had increased their prices drastically (it was $40 per car), we decided to take only two cars even though we had three families. My husband and I bit the bullet and decided to split up. He would ride with our son, his wife, and their three kids in a van, while I would ride in an SUV with our other son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. I got the better end of the deal. Here’s why.
Our son’s van has two infant seats and an adolescent seat. Even though there are three rows of seats, by the time you get all of these car seats for children placed where they are supposed to be there is actually very little room for an adult person. So my husband decided he was more agile than I was and he proceeded to climb into the van next to my granddaughter in the very back row.
Now here I must say that our son’s van looks like a tornado went off inside. There is debris everywhere. And where there is no debris, there are toys, stuffed animals, deflated balloons, and a host of other childish belongings scattered about the sticky surfaces. But my husband clamored over my granddaughter and squashed himself in two rows behind the driver’s seat.
My husband is 5’9”, and somehow the two of us produced a 6 foot 2 inch son. As the driver of the van, he had the seat back as far as it would go to drive comfortably. That meant that our grandson who sat in the row behind him in a child car seat, was squashed up against the back of his dad’s seat. And since he liked to kick, my son had moved his seat back as far as it would go. And directly behind him sat my poor husband with both knees up around his ears. He rode this way all the way to James Island.
I, however, was sitting at my ease next to my grandson’s car seat and humming along with the Christmas carols on the radio. It didn’t dawn on me that the noise level inside the van was probably more than just a little loud.
When we arrived at the park, we drove in to pay our money and cruise through the lengthy light show. Even though it was a little chilly we pulled the children out of the car seats, put the windows down, and let them look out and enjoy the colors of the Christmas scenes decorated with lights. I started laughing when I could hear childish voices, screams, and hollers of joy, from the van carrying my husband in front of us.
Behind them, we could hear all that racket and started laughing. I could just imagine what my poor husband was enduring mashed up like an accordion in the back seat with all those little voices shrieking. But it really didn’t dawn on me here just how scrunched up he was until we started to get out and stretch our legs for a minute. It took my two sons pulling, and a daughter-in-law and granddaughter pushing to get my husband out of the van. They pulled and pushed while my husband hollered instructions and fussed. They managed to get one leg out from that van, but the other one was stuck. After my sons worked to extricate his leg, they managed to drag him out of the van where it took him several minutes to gain his momentum to be able to stand. He groaned and moaned until he was able to get the kinks out and stand up straight.
“Are you OK?” I asked, Snickering.
“I may never be the same again,” he said rubbing his aching back.
“We could hear the children having a wonderful time while we were riding behind them in the other car,” I said laughing.
“What? Speak up. My ears are ringing, and I can’t hear you,” he said jerking on his ears.
“Don’t start that! You know you had a great time and wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
He grinned at me. “Yes, it was wonderful. But I think I need to make an appointment with a chiropractor tomorrow.”
An hour later, the children were tired, adults were weary, and my husband was downright cranky. It was time to call it a night and send the whiney ones to bed…and that included my old man. So we all drove home to settle down for a long winter’s nap.
But before hubby and I snuggled down in our beds,
We took those much-needed pain and anxiety meds,
So visions of sugar plums could dance in our heads.
We were glad we had survived the entire night,
and congratulated each other as they drove out of sight,
Saying, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
