My Mom was born on Christmas Day back in the 1950s. That's why she was named Holly. For 10 years, she was an only child. Christmas has always been "big business" for her.
My Dad, on the other hand, was the youngest of 6 kids, born into a poor farm family. He always has a hard time with Christmas. When he was a kid, he and his brother got a new shirt and had to share it between them. He also tells the story of how he saved cereal box tops and sent them in, but his prize never came--until one Christmas morning. Someone intercepted the Halloween balloons he had ordered and given them to him for Christmas. He didn't really appreciate that. He never liked spending much money on Christmas presents either.
Christmas morning, we kids could get up and open our stockings whenever we woke up. But we had to wait for the adults to get up and assemble before we opened presents.
My Dad would stall as long as possible. First, he had to start a fire (so we'd have heat), then he had to have his coffee, then he had to take a rail-roader. One year, he even tried to go out and feed the pigs before we could open presents. We absolutely protested at that idea. He could do the pigs later--Bah-Humbug!
Dad used to jokingly threaten that Santa would give us nothing but a stick (we burned wood, not coal) if we weren't good. I actually put a stick in his stocking one year--but I felt so bad about hiding all the stuff Santa had brought him, that I put it all back WITH the stick.
I was telling Oliver this story the other day, and he's already heard it enough times to finish the story. Time to write it down!
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