Larry is my Father-in-law. I believe my Mother-in-law would prefer I refer to him as my Father-in-LOVE, but I just can't. get it. out of. my mouth. Without kind of smirking that is. But I do love him, really I do. And I have reason to believe that he loves me in a way that reaches beyond that of my own father, my brothers, and certainly that of my husband.
It's a kind of love that says, "I'd love to hang your Christmas lights, Melanie." And you know I've never heard those words out of Jeff's mouth.
This is Griffin. When he wasn't trying to use the drill, he was trying to reorganize all the hooks, and bolts Larry needed to hang my lights. He was helpful in a way only really energetic three-year olds who refused to take an afternoon nap can be. Okay, he wasn't helpful at all, but he was enthusiastic.
Here Griffin is wondering why Babu didn't hang the wreath higher...or where his mother hid the drill.
Here Larry is just being thankful that we didn't buy the McMansion we were considering earlier this year. And contemplating why he didn't just say no to his Daughter-in-Love's ridiculous request for illumination so merry and bright. (Oh, I know. It's because I didn't grow up at your house and you're afraid if you deny me my electrical wishes I'll stop filling my freezer with ice cream when you come over.) I plan to milk that barest hint of uncertainity for the rest of my married life.This is Griffin. He's scratching himself with a rake. And Carter. He's wearing every piece of headgear he owns at once. Per usual. This picture pretty much sums up my life with the two of them. Thank God for Peyton or I'd probably be scratching myself with a rake too by now.
See how Larry loves me so much that he races to LEAP up on the ladder with his hands full of lights. (It's an action shot, ya'll. That's the only thing my old Canon S30 takes these days.)
And here is his finished product. Finished for today that is. We went on a drive to see lights after dinner and the boys mutually do not feel that we've put up enough. And since they mutually agree on so little these days, I may have to accommodate their wishes for a few more.
But probably not this many more. Although, just out of curiosity, I'd like to know how much ice cream this would cost me.
Larry? Larry? Where did you go, Larry?