They Loved Lamp

A year ago, we took a family trip to New England. Some friends of ours were kind enough to let us squeeze ourselves into their tiny apartment while they were in turn off visiting relatives in Moncton.

It was a tight fit, made worse by the proliferation of bric-a-brac and furniture that they'd managed to squeeze into their flat.

The worst offenders were the lamps. Lamps decorated every room. Every side table, every bureau, even the china cabinet was graced by a lamp. There were so many, and they were so cleverly placed that it took us several days to find every single one. In the end, we counted seventeen.

Six lamps peppered the master bedroom alone. The other eleven were scattered over the dining room, the small living room, and the remaining bedroom.

During one of our lasts nights, Mom said, "Guys, what should we get as a gift for our friends for letting us stay here?"

"A lamp."

"Mom, I can't believe you're even asking us that question."

"It definitely looks like they need another lamp around here."

"They love lamp!"

Mom is notorious for not appreciating clutter, so I think she bought them some chocolate instead.

We had a really great time.