Putting up Christmas lights is an important yearly event at my house and I’d say a possible mild concussion is a small price to pay to complete the task.

When I went to put up the lights, I stood in my yard, surveying the assorted lights and thought, it’s just not the same putting up the lights and not saying, “Would you two stop fighting over who puts up what Christmas light.”

With my daughter off at college and my son being out of town when it came time to put up the lights, I figured I would be flying solo. While the idea of not having to assign different azaleas on opposite sides of the yard was appealing, I was still a little bummed about doing it alone.

I was testing out the lights and took a picture to send to my daughter. “Light testing” it read. About a millisecond later, she responded, “You’re doing the lights without me?”

As it turned out, she would be making a trip home in just a few days, so I decided to hold off.

When she got home, I was glad to have the help. Because my wife and son had headed out of town, it was just the two of us. Thus, she could be assigned all of the azaleas.

We also had some new lights that we could put up, as I had done my annual post-Christmas purge of broken lights and replenished my supply with lights when they get put on discount at the store. For what it’s worth, you have to be savvy with your post-Christmas light purchases. Don’t be a sucker and fall for the 50% off sale. They’re going lower. Anything above 75% off is acceptable. But don’t wait too long or you’ll be stuck with blinking blue lights.

One of the strands I got was about a 20-foot piece that would fit just perfectly over the garage. While I was glad to have my daughter there, I could have really used my son, as he has stilts (yes, he stilt walks because why not?) and I could have had him work on putting the lights up there.

Instead we lugged out a ladder and I began putting small nails above the garage. My daughter would feed me some lights and I would hook them onto the nails. After a couple of nails, I would come down and reposition the ladder and repeat.

Well, on the third relocation of the ladder, I made a slight tactical error. Namely, I left the hammer on the top of the ladder (on that part that says “This is not a step” even though, let’s just all come clean — most of us have used it as a step).

As I went to move the ladder, gravity decided to function as it does, sending the hammer off the top of the ladder, bonking me squarely on the head.

If you are wondering what it feels like having a hammer drop on your head, I can tell you this − it feels like someone dropped a hammer on your head.

The hammer bounced off me onto the ground. I immediately grabbed my head and began checking to see if there was blood. Fortunately, there was not.

My daughter helped by saying, “OHMYGODAREYOUOKSHOULDICALLADCOCTORAREYOUOK?!” At least it sounded something like that.

I told her I was fine, but that the throbbing on my head was plenty and a barrage of fastball questions wasn’t helping.

After a few minutes, the pain was starting to subside and we were able to complete getting the lights up. I will try and plan a little better next year, so I can make sure both kids are there.

They may fight over who has what azalea, but at least I won’t need the ladder.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C. A graduate of the University of Alabama, he now lives in Mt. Pleasant. You can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike or at mikeslife.us.