We finally got the decorations up on the weekend and, as usual, hauling Black-eyed Santa out of the box always brings a bittersweet smile.
Why?
Because let’s be serious, he’s about the weirdest thing that could ever top an otherwise lovely and tastefully decorated tree.
But Black-eyed Santa, who looks like he is picking his nose, has been a part of the family for probably longer than I have, though he did not always have a black eye, that was an oops one year when I was a kid when the incandescent light bulb inside tipped forward and burned the plastic.
When we resurrected him after losing Dad, Kirk replaced the incandescent bulb with an LED one and made him safe, if less than presentable, for the tree again.
