I don't have a favorite, but I have a favorite story:
I was engaged (it didn't last) and we were having our first Christmas together as an engaged couple. I found out that his parents gave their kids gifts, but not vice-versa (now you know part of why the engagement didn't last). I thought this was appalling, so I suggested he make something for his parents and I helped him make a big batch of two kinds of chocolate candies. When he gave them to his parents, they cried, and his siblings felt awful (good). But that's not the story:
His mother presented me with her gift: A Stanley hammer and some nice Phillips and regular screwdrivers and bolts/screws/etc. I was THRILLED! I loved tools and no one ever got me tools before. I figured my fiancé must have told his parents this. Suddenly, my future mother-in-law (not) goes white in the face and looks depressed. I ask her what is wrong, because I am truly thrilled about my present. And she said, "That was a gag gift. My son told me you wanted tools, but I thought he must be kidding. I have your real gift here, but I'm afraid you're not going to like it." She had bought me a ruby necklace. (Her name was Ruby.)
Too funny.
Yes, I love tools. So what?
We had extended family that lived within three or four blocks of each other. They came on Christmas Eve as well as Christmas day to our house because it was the biggest. One year, there was a blizzard, and they could not leave to go back home even though they lived close. Everyone slept over. I remember feet in my face as a bunch of cousins slept in one bed and I remember new babies being put to sleep in drawers so they would not roll over. I remember lots of Italian bread and coffee and anissette biscuits for breakfast and the fullness of family. Good times! Simple times.
My poor mother! How the heck did she cope?
I love that story, Crest! It should be a scene in a movie :)
I was probably 6 or 7, we were all getting ready to come downstairs to see the tree and gifts... I hit the top step in my new slippers.... out went my feet... the stairs quickly met my butt... and down I went... all the way... bouncing off each step as I went... BUT.... as I was being consoled by my parents... I spotted it... a HUGE toy anti-aircraft gun... WOWZER! (this was near the end of WWII) I suddenly forgot all about my sore butt...!
But 50 years ago this year.... the day after Christmas... my first-born (son Mike) came into this world... we went to the hospital Christmas Day... t'was a very memorable Christmas for me in 1959..!
when my son was young we live in England in a small town called Leighton Buzzard. Every Christmas Eve in the town square they had a big tree, a warm fire, hot chocolate and small mince pies for everyone. We would all get together and sing Christmas Carols...great memories and grand times..
That's beautiful, Trip.
So, when your son was little, did he think all the hoopla of Chirstmas was for him?
BC--The movie Moonstruck, the last scene where everybody is yelling and confused and the mother is cooking in the kitchen, I've lived it,haha.
1967 when I got my first electric guitar and amp. I was 8.
Christmas Eve in my parents house, everyone got new PJs, Robes and slippers. Ironically, these were the presents we were allowed to open on Christmas Eve. Then it was bathtime!
Anyways, I was running water for my bath and my brother came running in, "I know what one of your presents is!" So I started with 21 Questions. Then he says, "I've been told not to tell, but I'll give you a hint! It goes tick-tock" He was so pleased with himself. "A clock?" "Smaller and it goes on your arm."
I have always remembered that....
About a week before Christmas one year, I was snooping around for my presents that my parents kept hidden....my Dad caught me and proceeded to give me every one of my presents right then.
I gave up snooping after that.
Went out Christmas morning and there was....nothing under the tree for me.
