Patient Gene

I've decided that if there is any gene that I want the kids to get from their father, it is his patient gene. Not to be confused with the "penny-pinching gene" that fuels the patient gene.

You see, upon discovering that one-fourth of the strand of icicle lights that I was hanging from my patio this afternoon didn't light up, I did the most logical thing. I walked them to the trash can and gently dropped them in. Another strand was about to join the first when my husband realized what it was I was doing.

He was mortified at my actions and I was more mortified at what it was he wanted me to do.

"Just take a working bulb from another strand and replace each of the bulbs on the non-working strand until you reach the one that is burnt out and it will illuminate."

I was completely dumbfounded that he honestly expected me to use my valuable time to complete such a task. I mean, really. That's two strands with one-hundred light bulbs each. You don't have to be a math genius to realize that that is a very time consuming job. If you've ever tried to pull those little pieces out of a strand of Christmas lights, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

To me, paying a few dollars at the local Wal-mart for a few new strands of icicle lights was a much more feasible idea. But because my husband is a cheapskate frugal, he took on the duty of returning the strands of lights to their original working order. And because of his patience, he diagnosed the problem and executed the solution. So, we saved a few bucks, the kids and I learned a few things about patience and persistence, and I have a gazebo that looks beautifully illuminated because of the work of my husband! And with the money we saved fixing those two strands of lights, I can go out and buy some more lights to hang around the yard! Thanks, Honey!