Bartholomew roared into the house and loudly proclaimed, "Arianna, my love, come and see what I did." He tugged at his wife's right arm and smiled widely like a child opening the first Christmas gift of the year.
Arianna rolled her eyes and sighed. "What now? Have you finally moved the snow blower to the front of the garage?"
"No," he said briefly deflated. "Better than that."
She stumbled and caught her footing as he yanked her toward the porch and then out the door into the frozen night air. They stood at the edge of the driveway; Bartholomew with his hands proudly on his waist and chest out Arianna staring blankly at him. "Well?"
Bartholomew plugged together the two ends of the extension cord. The exterior of the house exploded in a capacious array of lights bordering the roof, the living room picture window, the doorways, and even on the landscaped bushes at the foot of the building.
"Ta-Da!" He waited for it to sink in. Arianna stood in solemn amazement while Bartholomew nodded in smug appreciation. "Yes, yes. I know it's beautiful," he said as he waved for the imaginary silent applause.