C'mon, there's probably 200 lights on that Christmas tree. Maybe more.
My wife wants me to fix one bulb but what does it matter? 1 out of 200.
No, 500 I'll bet. 1 out of 500 lights. Maybe even a 1,000.
This is one of the reasons Christmas bugs me sometimes. You've got all these heightened expectations. Every dinner, every party, every polite exchange, every song, every waking moment of every day assigned an expectation that no normal human could ever realize.
So, yeah, I'm not going to switch out that bulb.
If I change that bulb my wife might actually expect me to attend a dinner or a party or make polite exchanges or sing songs when I'm awake. No way man.
I'm not going to switch out that bulb on the Christmas tree . . . eh.
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