Christmas Memories, Part 1: Santa, Can You Hear Me?

With Christmas Day so close, so many memories of my childhood Christmases are coming to mind. I tried to narrow it down to just one favorite, but they are all far too amusing to choose between them. Luckily for you, I’ve decided to share them all. I’m not going to to lie, Steph and Frank did a great job in making Christmas exciting and special for Nicole and I when we were young, but I won’t go on about them because their heads will get too big about their excellent parenting. I honestly don’t remember the exact moment when I first figured out Santa wasn’t real, but based on my vivid memories of these scenarios, I must have been pretty old.

If you knew me as a child, you knew I was not one to play by the rules. Throw Christmas into the mix and it was game over. My mom was well aware that the only way to keep my grubby paws away from the tree and presents on Christmas Eve would be to tell me that if Santa saw me, he’d take all the presents and leave. Still, I liked to test my luck.

One Christmas eve, I woke up in the middle of the night (so around 11PM), and as per usual, carefully opened my bedroom door without making any noise. I immediately heard the sound of scissors cutting wrapping paper. I remember freaking out, thinking He’s here! The presents aren’t already wrapped? What if I just peek around the corner? But what if he sees me? No, I’ll be so quiet. I took one step forward and heard something snap under my 6-year-old fat foot and froze. Oh no! He’s gonna hear me and leave with my toys! At the time, I had no idea what I had stepped on since it was dark and I certainly wasn’t about to take the time to look. I jumped back in my room, shut the door as quietly as I had opened it, and flung myself back into my bed.

The next morning when I deemed it appropriate to wake my family (no later than 5AM, I’m sure), I came out of my room and saw a trail of candy canes – one broken – leading from my bedroom, around the corner, and down the hallway – my only route to the tree. I remember thinking that was such a cool thing for Santa to do. But as I write this, I have a feeling “Santa” knew exactly what would happen and prepared herself, setting up her little minion to step on that candy cane. Touche, Mom. Touche.

Up Next: Stocking Rummaging at 3AM

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