An hour or so ago, mom came out of the back room and went onto the porch, trying to decide if she was hearing sirens or dogs howling. It was quite obviously a siren, but it kept stopping and starting up again, and seemed to be coming from some stationary place on the other side of the block. It took us a ridiculously long amount of time to figure out what it probably was.
A couple minutes after we'd come back inside, I thought it sounded like it was getting closer so I went back out on the deck and the siren was indeed approaching and there was a reddish glow slowly brightening up the street in front of the house.
"MOM!" I shouted. "THEY'RE COMIN' DOWN OUR STREET!"
She came sprinting out of the back room just as the fire truck rolled into view, wrapped in hundreds of Christmas lights, with Santa Claus himself, standing on top and waving and shouting "HO HO HO!"
The truck stopped in the street in front of mom's, because her across-the-street neighbors, Mike and Jennifer and little Ethan, were in their yard. After a couple minutes, the truck drove slowly off and peace was restored to our neighborhood.
But now I'm smiling for no reason at all, but for seeing Santa riding a light-bedecked fire truck.