Eh Braddah, Howzit?!
Here comes Santa Clause…. again
There’s a great commercial on television about how we grow to be our parents. That’ll never happen to me, I said as I slipped on my Vans and into my yellow button up sweater. Unfortunately, it’s true in spite of all we can do to prevent it. We have picked up traits and habits that we didn’t realize until someone points them out. “You remind me so much of your crazy Uncle Herbert when you do that…” Or you see something and buy it because “my mother had one just like that and she loved it.” We may not use it or even need it, but we have it.
One of the things my parents did…kids stop reading now….is to hide my Christmas presents all over the house. Of course, I spent a great deal of time trying to find them and sometimes I actually ran across one or two, but they were very good at it, or I didn’t get many gifts, so I never found them all.
Which brings me to the point of this writing. Christmas Eve would come and no matter how old I was, I had to wait for Santa to bring the gifts and put them under the tree. The next morning after a completely sleepless night, I’d come to the tree and find that ‘ol Santa had, in fact come to my house with something other than a bag of coal and a sack of switches. (If I have to explain ask your grandparents). I once told my daughters he might do that if they weren’t good and they immediately got nicer for a few minutes and then asked me what “coal” was. It kinda lost its effect after that.
Once all the gifts were unwrapped it was usually my mother who would ask if I had overlooked something. I’d check the discarded paper and boxes and assure her that there was nothing left. This is where it gets a little strange but hear me out. She was concerned because she knew she or my dad had bought something that they did not bring out. Why? They forgot where it was.
If it was something I had asked for but did not get, she came up with an ingenious idea one year. “You know ‘ol Santa has to deliver all over the world and he usually winds up in some place like Botsa Lumba where he takes a few weeks rest before heading back to the North Pole. He has a few gifts left over and for good little boys and girls, he’ll drop one off on the way back.”
I believed it and it accomplished two things. It gave her time to find the thing she had lost, and she got another couple of weeks out of my being good in anticipation of Santa swinging by on his way north.
It worked for me and it worked on my girls and if you do it right, it’ll work for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go dig through my garage. There was this power drill I bought for my wife at the hardware store on Christmas Eve that I seem to have misplaced.
I sometimes channel my mother's thoughts. But I'm finding that I have lately used my father's facial expressions. I'm in my 60s, an odd time to be doing these things
ReplyDeleteI agree we consciously and unconsciously pick up a lot of our parents traits, beliefs and habits. Since I loved and respected my parents, I hope I do pass some of them to my own children and grandkids.
ReplyDeleteFun post, and a reminder that everything we are and everything we do is connected to those who came before us and those who come after us.
ReplyDeleteI still hear my mother's thoughts in my head, even those I disagreed with. Then I find I repeat them to my daughters. A glance in the mirror also shows our similarities.
ReplyDeleteA few weeks ago I emailed my 4 siblings and said, "I am now officially ancient. I am wearing bedroom slippers."
ReplyDelete(A common gift when I was a kid, and my mother would occasionally buy them for me, but somehow I resisted. If my feet were cold, I'd wear socks, but slippers slowed me down too much.)
To emphasize the enormity of this capitulation, I put this addendum on the email:
"On top of that, it's seventy degrees outside."