I went to the Festival of Lights at the Grotto the other night with my family. This semi-annual tradition goes back to at least the early '90s. The festival seems perpetually stuck in time. Nothing ever changes and everything's always in the same spot. There's the light displays recounting Mary and Joseph's trip to Bethlehem, the nativity scene, the choirs in the church and the bored llama in the petting zoo. These visits to the Grotto may as well be interchangeable. We walk up to the Grotto, listen to the choirs in the church, feed the baby goats and make a quick stop at the gift shop.

This year though, as we were heading back to the car, we saw a gentleman being led off the property in handcuffs by PPD. He was fairly-well dressed and clean cut. He looked like a young father. As we headed down to Gustav's for dinner, we theorized about his crime. My guess: he was involved in a drunken punch-up in the petting zoo. Those goats are the very definition of "tripping hazard" and perhaps a bumped elbow led to fisticuffs. Or maybe he got caught pilfering holy water.

Labels: holidays