Ok, children – gather around and let me tell you the story of the worst Christmas EVER.
Ok, maybe I’m being just a bit dramatic. Maybe it wasn’t the worst Christmas EVER. But it was definitely a Christmas that I don’t remember with fondness.
The morning started like any other Christmas morning. I couldn’t sleep. My stomach was full of excited butterflies. My sister had slept in my bed with me the night before and we had made a bed for my brother on the floor so we were all in there together. I looked over and saw that my sister was as wide awake as I was. Just a few minutes later my brother was climbing up onto my bed as well. We were positively GIDDY with excitement, bouncing up and down, giggling, whispering. I know it was a complete accident, but out of nowhere my sister’s elbow came careening towards my face hitting me square in the nose. OUCH! I don’t think I cried but I tried to shake it off as we went to see if our parents were awake.
As always, we had to wait for my mom to brush her hair and put her contacts in and yadda yadda yadda. Why do they take so long??
When they were finally ready to go, us kids stood at the top of the stairs waiting for the all clear from Dad who was watching us from downstairs with the video camera. We RAN down the stairs and into the family room where piles of toys and stockings full of presents were waiting for us!!!
Or not.
I think we looked at each other in disbelief as we stared at the bare fireplace in front of us. Not a single present in sight.
This had to be a joke.
Right?
With our excitement dimmed substantially, we walked over to our stockings and carefully reached our hands inside.
Wait!! I think I can feel something….
And I slowly pulled out a bag … of coal.
Yes, coal.
My parents gave me COAL for Christmas.
As much as the logical side of me knew it HAD to be a joke, there was a part of me that was wondering if all those years of threats were finally coming true. I was still pondering this when I noticed a little piece of paper with the bag of coal.
It was a clue.
I read the clue out loud and my sister, brother and I figured out the answer and ran to the spot the clue had led us to. And what do you think we found??
Another clue.
And this went on for a while.
Until I was bending down to look for a clue when I stood up without realizing I was right next to the fireplace mantle.
I hit my head so hard the video camera shook. I tried my best for about 30 seconds to hold it together but a pathetic sob escaped my lips and I made a dash for my mom. We took a break from clue-hunting for a bit.
When my head trauma had subsided, we headed off to the next clue which led us to the piana bench. We opened it up and what do you suppose we found in there??? Yep, you guessed it. Three big ziplock bags with our names on them. Our stocking presents. REDEMPTION!
After we opened our stockings, we headed into the other room to open the gifts under the tree.
Not 10 minutes into it a box was flung open and the corner of the lid poked me in the eye. I didn’t even try to hold it together that time.
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So that was the worst Christmas ever. I know, I know. It really wasn’t that bad. And for that I’m grateful. I have years and years of wonderful Christmas memories so if this is the worst there is, I’m very satisfied with that.
I know my parents meant well and just wanted to do something fun with us when they gave us all coal. But it was so anti-climactic! The excitement we felt at the top of the stairs fizzled as soon as we saw the limp stockings hanging there. And once we found the gifts, it just didn’t look like those ziplocks held as much as our stockings did! And you could SEE everything – with the gifts stuffed into the stocking, there’s always that element of surprise as you reach your hand in to see what treat you will pull out next!
But in spite of all that…
I’m wondering…
Should I do that to my kids this year?? I think it sounds fun…
