The Christmas Angel's Curse (repost for those decorating for the Holidays early)

Not actual "cursing angel",
but WTF is this one doing?
(cree-eeepy!)

In 2008 I bought a yard angel for Christmas. It was 4ft of twinkling LED lights and was beautiful. She was calling to me from the box. I got her for 75% off! The plan was to surprise the kids with it on Christmas morning. I would construct the angel and set it high on a table with the small amount of gifts I was able to buy around her.

It had been a rough year on everyone. A week before Christmas we had to put our beloved dog to sleep. We were all traumatized by this. I really just wanted the "magic" and "wonder" of the season to punch us all in the face. I longed for a day of screeching and laughter.

When all the kids were asleep I started wrapping and organizing. My quest was to turn the whole living room into a Christmas paradise by spreading all the gifts and visually enhancing what little I had to work with. Smoke and mirrors basically to woo the kids into the spirit and joy of celebration.

I worked until the wee hours of the night. I ended up having to go in the attic (at night-with the creepy crawlies,, shiver-shake). I wanted to get a box of special Christmas stuffed animals and place them around the room. I do not go in the attic so I was unaware of proper attic practice. When I got up there something brushed my hand and I jumped up. A nail sticking out from the beams popped into my head and I started bleeding profusely. I left the attic in pain and cursing. Blood stained my t-shirt and face. Dust and muck made a home on my hands and knees. My hair was in my face and matted with blood. I was a victim. This was a crime scene of stupidity...... But..... I was able to throw the stuffed animal box to the ground! SCORE!

It was about 3am when I finally opened up my "piece-del-la-resist-ANCE"......THE ANGEL..... (insert a chorus of Hallelujahs here). I am a girl. Mechanically stunted from the womb. But I am a master at improvisation and I can make things work (note: if you ever visit my home do not stand under any heavy hanging decorations, they were hung with a can of corn as a hammer and loom precariously,, waiting for a victim, do not be THAT victim!).

This angel kicked my ass. There were hours of putting one piece on while another fell of. Hours of cursing and reading the directions only to get half done and have it to explode in my hands. Finally, I got zip strips. Certainly zip strips will work, they are almost as good as WD-40, duct tape and vodka!

It was 5am. I came to the conclusion that it was a lost cause. I was tired and achy. I guess the room would have to be done because I was a puddle of mush. I took my sorry self to bed.

It was 5:30 in the morning and I heard the kid's door squeak. I jumped up to stop the holiday snooping. I escorted a beautiful child to the bathroom and answered sweet sleepy Santa questions. I shuffled her back to bed with a kiss.

While I was setting the "squeaky door trap" back, I became determined. I can fix this freaking angel. For the next 2 hours I jimmy-rigged the heck out of the angel. I picked her up, she fell apart. Desperately, I finagled her one last time asking for a Christmastime magic. And there was!

It's a Christmas MIRACLE Charlie Brown!!!!

Gingerly I carried her out to the living room. Put her on the stand and lit her ass up. It was beautiful (at least from the front, ha!).

I stood to admire my handiwork, briefly congratulating my ingenuity.

The presents were scattered around the base. She lit up the whole room with a awe striking icy glow. As I went to my room, the spawns awoke. I could not wait for them to see what I (Santa) had done! We scurried to the living room.

There were gasps. Ooooohhhhhh's and awwwww's filled the festive room.

Merry Christmas hugs and kisses for all!!

Just as all 3 kids settled and sat to open presents, the angel's huge torso fell off her body and landed with a thunder parting the children like Moses had visited. Her majestic lit wings that had previously spread to heaven and glowed with the promise of Christmas, knocked my frightened children to the ground, pinning them like a roided out cage fighter. Many tears flowed, mostly mine.

Fast forward to Christmas 2009!

I decided to get my little Christmas tree out and let the kids decorate it.

The angel sat in its box glaring at me in defiance. I decided I would beat her this year!

I spent 3 hours with wire, wire cutters and hope. Yes, I would be the one screaming Holiday infused profanities at an inanimate object while poking my self with wire and bleeding drops of festive red love.

But alas!!!! I DID finally get her together!!!!!

She seemed stable so I moved her to her base and plugged her ass up once again. The heavens opened up and her light glowed brightly in a wondrous Christmas spectacle.

The four of us stood together hugging and admiring her beauty.

I had beat the Christmas angel!

Ten seconds later, the lights popped and blew out. She had been successfully put together and painstakingly arranged. The LED lights (supposedly made to last longer) were tucked deep inside. Her glow was gone. My glow is gone. She has won yet again!

There is no stinking way I was taking her apart and testing each and every LED light and putting her back together again.

I carried her to the road and threw her onto the concrete.

This time, she didn't break.

She would sit at the curb for some sucker to take her in and rehabilitate her from a life of evil.

Well played Christmas angel, WELL PLAYED!!!!