It's not that our room lacked Christmas cheer - our Christmas spirits were great. Yet with only a single strand of lights, our room was seriously lacking the gentle glow that defines Christmas.
Our eighth floor male counterparts were not so unprepared, boasting consistently of the excessively festive atmosphere that their room could barely contain. Abound with lights, stockings, garland, and Christmas trees galore, their room embedded a deep jealousy within us.
4 a.m. last Thursday morning, four of us departed from our safe haven, Walsh 421, and embarked on our now legendary endeavor - Mission Grinch. We crept into the eighth-floor eight-man where our unsuspecting rivals slept. We silently disassembled the strung lights and greedily snatched up the mini-Christmas trees and stockings. After removing every trace of Christmas, we tiptoed out, our arms laden with stolen treasures.
We dashed back and celebrated by decorating our common room. Every corner was illuminated, and our normally naked couches and chairs were now dressed in garland.
Sneaking back upstairs, we set the boys' iPod, on repeat, to Dr. Seuss' "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch."
What are the holidays without a little comical rivalry?
Be the first to comment on this article!