Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Naughty or Nice?
Christmas in the '70's sometime
I remember when I discovered that there was no santa. Sorry if I spoiled it for you here. I know how disappointed you feel. I was 8 or 9 when my Christmas changed. My mom had asked me to find something for her. She innocently told me to look in the trunk of Daddy's car. I did. Christmas was never the same.
Our bowling balls, my pretty pink dress, and a plethora of other presents were stashed in that trunk. Mom and Dad hadn't let each other in on their hiding places. Oops! Bryan may have already "known" but he certainly did after I went racing back into the house.
In some ways, I think my parents were glad that they were done with that part of the Christmas revelries: hiding gifts, wrapping them late into the night on Christmas Eve, eating cookies nad carrots and drinking milk, keeping up appearances of santa, the whole thing. So after that Christmas, things changed.
I was on the hunt starting in December. Little tidbit: I DO NOT like surprises. I would search the house high and low until I found my gifts. It became harder and harder for my parents to keep our presents a surprise. Which is so sad since Bryan LOVED being surprised. He didn't peek. Sorry little brother. If I found HIS, I would tell. Meanie!
After my parents finally surrendered and stopped hiding our gifts, they began wrapping them as they bought each present and left them under the tree until Christmas morn. That year, I UNWRAPPED every single one of my gifts and re-wrapped them. I know. I know. SICK! Bryan refused to take part in my season-spoiling sickness. He finked on me! Serves me right! Naughty little girl!
The next year, my parents set boobie-traps and made threats. If any gift was so much as TOUCHED or tampered with, it would be given to needy children. I will not reveal here if I ever disobeyed my parents with my illness/sneakiness. My parents have had so much heartache this year. I think I will keep that to myself. The only other person who knows...was Bryan. So my secret is safe. Until the Reunion.
Posted by Reilly Fitzpatrick at 9:12 AM