I have been enjoying other bloggers' posts remembering Christmas past. It's funny the things you remember and that remain meaningful as the years go by. Stories about That Christmas When..., always entertain with the retelling. So here are two from me. I do hope that you find them fun.
I remember one Christmas when we took our regular Christmas Eve drive around the neighborhood to see the lights on people's homes: Mom, Dad and the three of us kids all piled in the back of the station wagon in those popular 1950s style pajamas with the feet. We of course had to get back home before bedtime because Santa could arrive at any moment but only after we were all tucked in. The excitement was building with every new street we drove down. Finally, as we were starting to make our way home, and I swear this happened, Santa came out of the front door of one of the houses!! We three kids squealed with delight and begged to be taken right home. And so we were and got to bed, if not to sleep within the half-hour.
Another Christmas Eve, Dad stayed up quite late playing Santa's helper trying to assemble some present or other for my younger brother. Maybe a wagon or bicycle. He was a hard working father and after a difficult week at work there he was in his Mr. Rogers style sweater, on the floor with his tools, reading the directions and swearing like the Irishman he was. I was his little assistant because I was older and knew all about how Moms and Dads helped Santa;) Just after midnight, Mom dozing in a chair near the fireplace and me asleep on the sofa, Dad gave out a laugh, signaling that his work was complete, and we all climbed the stairs of the two story bungalow in the suburbs.
The next morning my brother woke up - and he was probably two getting ready to turn three at the time - and woke me up. "Did Santa come??!! he shouted. Oh, sure I replied in a sleepy stupor. "I saw him," I said. That only threw fuel to the Santa anticipation fire in him, and he bounded out of bed running for the door.
I knew that Dad was ready to try out his Super 8 movie camera with the big light bar for indoor action, and this event of us kids coming down the stairs Christmas morning promised to be a dandy. I tried to stall my brother and Mom shot up the stairs trying to keep both of us at bay while Dad got his movie gear ready. I was to try to keep my brother occupied until the signal came.
Brother proved to be a handful, and while I was good at entertaining kids, the promise of Santa's wonders waiting at the bottom of the stairs was too much! Finally I used brute strength and picked up the little squirt and dragged him into Mom and Dad's bedroom and locking the door from the inside. I resolved that the kid wasn't smarter than I, so I looked on Dad's dresser and took the shiniest most kid-attractive item I could find as entertainment fodder: the pen with the click-click action. Bingo: that did it. Brother was entranced!
Finally our Director Dad was ready and signaled "Action!" Down we came. Sort of. I had to carry brother because he was still holding on to that pen and fascinated by it. Dad and Mom both shouted for him to look at the presents and that bike... or wagon, I forget. But he'd have none of it. With a little pout on his face from being thwarted from bounding down the stairs right away and then being told to put down the pen he obviously loved, to look at some wagon or bike was too much. He burst out crying. All captured on Super 8 film and well lit by the big light bar!!
Let's all go make some memories!
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