I think I learned to cuss at Christmas time when my dad would pull out the decoration box and go to work attempting to untangle the wadded up mess of lights. Once the job was complete we would plug each strand in, assess which bulbs were broken, which were burned out, and what colors we were now missing. Then we would bundle up and head to the hardware store to purchase our annual supply of replacement bulbs. We would always buy extras but those would be packed away in some junk drawer and the location would soon be forgotten. They always popped up in June but never December. Now lights are in plastic tubes. How will little children learn to cuss. It's a sad thing.
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