My family still does Christmas stockings, and while the contents tend to run more and more to edibles lately, Vater always manages to stick in a little toy or two. Among this year’s pickings were glowsticks, and I collected mine and Stan’s and took them with me when I went back to work yesterday.

After sunset — call it around 4:30 or so — I took the twins upstairs and told them I had something special to show them. We closed the door of their room and turned off the lights, and I cracked the glowsticks for them. They were a hit, and we spent a while seeing in how many different directions we could wave them.

The novelty of this wore off a lot sooner for me than it did for them, of course, so I started to look for a way to make it more interesting. Their parents had left the ipod upstairs, so I plugged it into the stereo and started pumping out some Raffi. Dancing naturally followed.

About ten minutes later I realised this:

1. It was dark
2. We were dancing
3. We had glowsticks
4. There was loud music playing
5. People were spinning around until they fell down
6. Two-thirds of those present were not wearing pants