Seven Christmas memories
1. The one where I threw up after opening my gifts.
This was at the height of my "I am so excited about Christmas" period as an adult, er, I mean child. I was probably 9 or 10, and it wasn't necessarily a santa thing, but more like a "I can't sleep there is stuff downstairs to open" thing.
I felt funny when I woke up but bravely made it downstairs and opened my gifts with my brother - and then threw up on the carpet.



2. The one where I got my first 'real' bike.
Even though I was like 13yrs old and knew that I was getting a bike because I had helped pay for it (it cost more than my parents wanted to pay - but I had to have the fancy 1983 ice-blue Trek racing bike).
Oh my. I can still remember seeing the bike for the first time in the living room. Oh my.



3. The one where I asked my parent's what Santa was going to bring my newborn brother.
This is my mom's favorite story. She had just had my little brother on the 17th of December (happy birthday brutha!) and hadn't thought to buy a gift for a week-old baby. But, to my 2-year old head, the new baby HAD to get something from Santa.
My dad ran out on Christmas eve and bought him a stuffed monkey or something.



4. The one where I got my first 'real' bike and it was 60 degrees outside.
It was amazing. I got to ride the bike all Christmas day.



5. The beginning of dogs enjoying Christmas with us.
My brother's dog began spending Christmas with us (as family dogs are apt to do), which started our family tradition of giving his dog a box of tennis balls and watching her pull them out the box and then go nutty because there are balls everywhere.



6. The time my mom gave us Nerf guns.
You know, those Nerf "guns" that shoot Nerf balls? Mom thought it would be a great gift idea - and my brother and I (high school age) loved them and spent the day running around the house loudly shooting Nerf balls at each other. I remember a scene of my father standing at the top of the stairs, shaking his head, and commenting good-heartedly, yet quite sarcastically that this was a *real* good idea.
NOTE: Our wives hate these guns with a passion. Something about trying to get them to appreciate how fun they are and shooting Nerf balls at them.



7. The time the little kid said "shit".
We have the great Christmas eve dinner tradition with my parent's friends that we have done for about 30-40 years (yow!). One of the families had this young son who wanted to ride home with us (we lived close to them so now big deal).
He was sitting between my brother and I and was probably 4 or 5 years old.
Whenever we would drive through a particulary dark stretch of road, he would say in his small little boy voice (with a faux southern accent), "I can't see shit".








Christmas Spirit
Even as a olde man who doesn't hang out with Jeebus very often, it's hard to not get excited by Christmas - especially since it's such a great experience as a child (um, cuz you get a ton of toys, yo!).
It's imprinted on us.
Granted, the materialism and corporate-themed Clay Aiken Fox News hokiness is disturbing, but I try to just file that away into the back of my head.
Cold weather, the smell of baked goods, parties, goofy holiday cards, buying gifts for Mrs. Robot...
it's all good.







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with smiley for a last name, it‘s gotta be good happy holidays from bob, kathy, krista, carl, and simon!



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›post #451
›bio: rich
›perma-link
›12/20/2004
›01:52

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