Twas the night...
It’s one of the happiest memories from my childhood.
We are a Christmas morning family. We opened out Christmas presents at an ungodly early hour (except for that disastrous time we tried to open presents after midnight mass). And us kids set the hour.
My brother and I had moved down to the basement, and on Christmas Eve, we’d wait at the top of the stairs until my parents went to sleep (we had the door closed). We’d huddle at the top of the stairs and draw pictures on plain pieces of typing paper. For hours, listening as my parents set about putting out the final surprise gifts and filling the stockings (five red and green hockey socks).
Once the house was quiet for at least 10 minutes, we made our move.
Christmas Eve was the only night my mother let the tree lights stay on all night. I guess she figured we were going to peek, she might as well light the way.
We always looked at the tree, but left it for later.
What we wanted were the stockings.
The hockey socks always bulged with goodies. Braches peppermint nougats; new toothbrushes; new Hot Wheels and gum (Blackjack, how I miss it).
We’d unhook the socks and pilfer through the bundle of goodies (and put them all back where they belonged).
We’d take a glance at the tree, scope out what presents were new – and went back to bed.
And slept, only for a couple of hours, before we’d wake up my parents to reheat mom’s cinnamon rolls – and open gifts.
Have a very Merry Christmas, one and all.
We are a Christmas morning family. We opened out Christmas presents at an ungodly early hour (except for that disastrous time we tried to open presents after midnight mass). And us kids set the hour.
My brother and I had moved down to the basement, and on Christmas Eve, we’d wait at the top of the stairs until my parents went to sleep (we had the door closed). We’d huddle at the top of the stairs and draw pictures on plain pieces of typing paper. For hours, listening as my parents set about putting out the final surprise gifts and filling the stockings (five red and green hockey socks).
Once the house was quiet for at least 10 minutes, we made our move.
Christmas Eve was the only night my mother let the tree lights stay on all night. I guess she figured we were going to peek, she might as well light the way.
We always looked at the tree, but left it for later.
What we wanted were the stockings.
The hockey socks always bulged with goodies. Braches peppermint nougats; new toothbrushes; new Hot Wheels and gum (Blackjack, how I miss it).
We’d unhook the socks and pilfer through the bundle of goodies (and put them all back where they belonged).
We’d take a glance at the tree, scope out what presents were new – and went back to bed.
And slept, only for a couple of hours, before we’d wake up my parents to reheat mom’s cinnamon rolls – and open gifts.
Have a very Merry Christmas, one and all.
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