Over time, we have come to regard Jack as the embodiment of the house's guardian spirits; the line has become, "Good night, Jack; keep an eye out," as I leave for work in the evening, and I make a point of telling Jack when we will be back if we are gone overnight. As I said, cultivated eccentricity.
Entropy marches on. Jack's bulbs need to be replaced from time to time, and the other day I came home, took off and hung up my coat, put away my shoes... And turned to face a familiar Jack-o-Lantern with its apertures glowing a bright, cheerful green. Blinky the three-eyed fish would have been right at home.
Creeped me right the hell out, I tell you.
It turns out that Dementia had found a package of correct sized bulbs in assorted colors, and being Dementia, thought that green would be a nice change. And I can't really object to the effect on aesthetic grounds, it's just... Yeah. Blinky the three eyed fish.
I am not sure this is within my ability to adapt. I'm also not sure it's a good idea from a theoretical magic point of view.
And it STILL creeps me right the hell out.