A Retro Christmas
By: Angela Gillaspie Copyright © 2001
This time of year, most of us get all sentimental remembering Christmases past.
The eager looks on my kids' faces remind me of the holiday thrills of my youth. All day long on Christmas Eve, Brenda Lee crooned softly in the background and I'd sit by the four-foot aluminum tree holding, shaking, sniffing, and studying the presents with my name on them. I tried peeling the tape back to get a peek inside, but Momma always could hear me rattling the paper - I swear she had the house bugged.
The anticipation of opening the gifts was almost too much to bear. Hey, no fair! My younger sister had two more presents than I did! Was I too naughty this year? Would Santa forgive me for hatching those thousands of praying mantises in school? Probably. He might still be mad about me hatching them in my room though.
My older sister wasn't too interested in the presents, all she wanted to do was fix her Farrah Fawcett-looking hair and talk on the phone with some leisure-suited goober. My younger sister ignored the gifts as she tied up her Barbies with shoestrings and tortured them with bad haircuts while singing the Star Wars theme over and over.
The day grew dusky and I reluctantly left my post at the tree long enough to join the family around the supper table. Daddy started to pray and I interrupted him, "ThankyouJesusforthisfoodamen," as I shoved peas, mashed potatoes and pot roast down my throat.
Ninety seconds later I was back at the tree, humming to Brenda Lee's Marshmallow World and using my magnifying glass to try and see through the wrapping paper. Was that an "L"? Was I getting a Lite Brite? Oh gosh, I couldn't stand it.
Finally, the rest of the family finished eating and joined me at the aluminum tree. Daddy said, "Alright, y'all go ahead and open pres-"
"Oh gee, a purple velour turtle neck, thanks Momma," I interrupted as I began opening my second gift. Various undergarments, board games, pajamas, Sea Monkeys, a Lite Brite, a chemistry set, and the famous Venus fly trap rounded out my haul. I was overjoyed.
Daddy said he had to go help down at the Masonic Lodge and he quickly excused himself. I didn't care, I had Sea Monkeys to hatch! About an hour later, there was a knock on the door and Momma told us to answer it. We flung open the door and found SANTA!
He stood in our doorway with a garbage sack tossed over his shoulder. He looked splendid in his slightly wrinkled and lint-covered red suit. "Ho ho ho!" he screamed as we squealed and ran to him for a large group hug. Whoof, he stunk. He smelled like he had an argument with Mrs. Clause and she made him sleep out in the shed with the reindeer. That ... or ... he didn't have time to wash the ghosts of Christmases past out of his suit before he come to visit us.
He handed out more presents - make up and Clackers for my older sister, a Six Million Dollar Man doll for my younger sister to use to rescue the Bondage Barbies and ROCKEM SOCKEM ROBOTS for me! I nearly fainted with excitement.
Santa grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and stood conspicuously under the mistletoe. I loved my robots, but enough to kiss a beer swilling musty-moldy smelling St. Nick? Why sure!
My sisters and I moved away from Smelly Santa to play with our gifts, while Santa remained under the mistletoe looking expectantly at Momma. We stopped what we were doing and looked at Momma too. Sniffing the air, she swallowed hard and looked back at Santa. Santa continued to look at Momma. My sisters and I looked at Santa. Momma then looked at us looking at Santa looking at her. Finally she gave in and gave Santa a light kiss on his cheek.
Ewww gross!
Ah yes, those old Christmas memories will never leave me. Now I have my own kids, and each year I play "A Brenda Lee Christmas" and listen for the crinkling of presents being examined. I make sure that the wrapping paper is thick and that each child has the same number of presents as the other. The only thing I have left to do is put out the mistletoe. (I just hope Santa washes his suit this year.)