I like driving around town looking at people’s displays of outdoor Christmas decorations. There are lots of pretty lights, fresh green wreaths with red bows, vintage sleds, stars and more. There are reindeer on the lawn, or the occasional wooden cutout Nativity scene.
Of course, some houses have all of the above.
And then there are the inflatable decorations. There’s a house that I pass on the way to Big Brother’s school that has no fewer than eight inflatables: Frosty, Santa, a huge snow globe, and others that I can’t remember just now. Problem is, most people don’t inflate their decorations until it gets dark, so all day long people drive by and see Frosty doing a face-plant on someone’s lawn.
That’s not a pretty sight.
The only inflatable I was ever tempted to consider displaying was a Snoopy-as-World-War-I-Flying-Ace, complete with doghouse. Now that was cool.
The saddest thing, though, was what I saw today. The house had an inflatable Nativity scene–but it wasn’t turned on. So the Holy Family lay flat and crumpled on the dead winter grass.
