And thus we come down to it…
Yeah, not sure where that came from. Anyhoo, we’ve got a winner! It was a close thing there. This one ran neck-and-neck the whole time, never a clear frontrunner. I love the ones like that.
But the poll does eventually close, and a winner is decided. And that winner this week is: Corinne O’Flynn, @CorinneOFlynn!
Congrats, Corinne!
Here’s her entry, one more time, for you to enjoy. See you all next week!
“Lawn flamingos at Christmas? Honestly honey? Can’t we have one holiday where those things stay in their box?”
My husband just doesn’t understand. There is something magical about the delightful pink creatures and their wire legs. He doesn’t appreciate their elegance.
“Take them down if you will, but know that I was up for hours last night hot glueing the tinsel antlers to their little heads. Hours.” I know he would never remove them. He knows it would break my little pink heart.
I smile as I dab hot pink paint on the wall of our foyer, the flamingo stencils I found at the craft store are much nicer than the ones I did in the kitchen. More detailed.
“But you can barely see them with all the snow!” His face is growing pink with his exertions. Flamingo pink. Almost, but not quite.
“I know honey, but I have to have them there. You know that.”
And he does.
The last time he took my flamingos inside was over the Memorial Day holiday. He objected to the little camouflage outfits I’d sewn for all sixteen of them. We had a little platoon all lined up saluting the tiny American flag.
But I showed him what happens when you mess with my flamingos. The following morning they were all wearing a tiny slice of his toupee. Hot glued to their perfect little pink plastic heads.
