I’m not really fond of heights. In fact, you could say that I’m downright scared of them. Over the years, I’ve tried pretty hard to overcome this little problem with the appropriate outdoor activities: skiing, mountain climbing, rock climbing, roller coasters, etc. It has, for the most part, worked. I’m still scared of heights, but I rarely freeze up in terror the way I used to.
This past weekend I was forced to face a whole new challenge of suburban life: rooftop Christmas lights.
We’ve never hung lights from the edge of our roof before. Our neighbors all have them, however, and they do look pretty good. Last year, J decided it was time. She went out and bought several boxes and presented them to me for hanging. That’s when I made a key mistake. The excuse I gave was something along the lines of “oh, I’d love to, but I’m too busy.” I should have said “I’ll hold the ladder for you.”
So this past weekend found me clinging to the roof while I leaned over the edge and tried to wedge the little light hanging clips under the shingles. I was working without any ropes or safety nets, of course, just trying hard to keep my feet from sliding on the steep pitch.
Once we convinced C that he wasn’t going to be able to join me, he contented himself with riding his bike around in the driveway below.
At one point, I caught him peeking up to watch me and I called down. “Hey big guy! Do I look like Spiderman?”
“Yep, you do.”
Something about his tone caused me to ask a follow up question. I should know better by now. “Why?”
“Cause Spiderman is grumpy?”
I almost lost my footing right then. “No! Because I’m on the roof. I’m on the roof!”
“Is Spiderman grumpy?”
“No, he’s lighthearted and fun. Like Daddy!” I gave him my best “I’m so carefree and happy that I don’t even care that I’m currently one slip away from breaking my neck” smile.
He considered me for a minute, and then said. “You look pretty serious.”