Monday, October 12, 2009
A CHRISTMAS PAST
OH PROMISE ME
“Here they come again” was our warning. We moved out of the projected path without difficulty.
“Who’s ahead?”
“I think it’s one of yours, but with all the jostling, pushing and tugging, the lead keeps changing.”
The runners came thundering up the hall from the front bedroom past the bathroom, almost to the ironing board then made a sharp left turn into the kitchen, past the stove where a Christmas turkey was cooking away, and emitting a heavenly aroma , a portent of Christmas dinner to come., and before you could utter a bad word, the group veered sharply left, into the dining room enroute to the living room where another sharp left took them through the front entry way, and back into the front bedroom, thus completing the entire circuit. All this time, one of the stragglers, on a tricycle was pedaling furiously trying to keep pace, but to no avail.
This indoor track meet turned out to be a matter of some discussion in post- Christmas family planning for future family get-togethers.
This was a formidable group of kids. Twelve of them, at that point, five of my wife’s sister, and seven of our own They were all quite young, close to each other in age, fun loving, and so glad to mingle with their cousins—and boy, did they!
We had a perfect plan “Let’s have Christmas together. This year at your house, and next year at ours. What could be better?” So we were implementing our plan this year for the first time.
Other things began to happen.. The Christmas tree was knocked over the first time quite early in the proceedings. “Isn’t that cute? The kids knocked down the Christmas tree. They will remember this for a lifetime, I’ll bet.” We righted the tree, swept up smashed ornaments, and festivities began anew.
Tree felling became less amusing after two or three more times. Progressively less cute, and the tree was thrown out in the backyard before dinner was served.
The tenure of that tree was probably the shortest of any Christmas tree in the history of the western world.
A group of 12 choir boys would be tough enough to control under such exciting condtions, to say nothing of what a mob of undisciplined such as ours proved to be.
In a solemn agreement after dinner, my wife and I, her sister and her husband made a pact which has been religiously honored from that day onward.:
“We won’t come to your house if you promise not to come to ours.”
“Here they come again” was our warning. We moved out of the projected path without difficulty.
“Who’s ahead?”
“I think it’s one of yours, but with all the jostling, pushing and tugging, the lead keeps changing.”
The runners came thundering up the hall from the front bedroom past the bathroom, almost to the ironing board then made a sharp left turn into the kitchen, past the stove where a Christmas turkey was cooking away, and emitting a heavenly aroma , a portent of Christmas dinner to come., and before you could utter a bad word, the group veered sharply left, into the dining room enroute to the living room where another sharp left took them through the front entry way, and back into the front bedroom, thus completing the entire circuit. All this time, one of the stragglers, on a tricycle was pedaling furiously trying to keep pace, but to no avail.
This indoor track meet turned out to be a matter of some discussion in post- Christmas family planning for future family get-togethers.
This was a formidable group of kids. Twelve of them, at that point, five of my wife’s sister, and seven of our own They were all quite young, close to each other in age, fun loving, and so glad to mingle with their cousins—and boy, did they!
We had a perfect plan “Let’s have Christmas together. This year at your house, and next year at ours. What could be better?” So we were implementing our plan this year for the first time.
Other things began to happen.. The Christmas tree was knocked over the first time quite early in the proceedings. “Isn’t that cute? The kids knocked down the Christmas tree. They will remember this for a lifetime, I’ll bet.” We righted the tree, swept up smashed ornaments, and festivities began anew.
Tree felling became less amusing after two or three more times. Progressively less cute, and the tree was thrown out in the backyard before dinner was served.
The tenure of that tree was probably the shortest of any Christmas tree in the history of the western world.
A group of 12 choir boys would be tough enough to control under such exciting condtions, to say nothing of what a mob of undisciplined such as ours proved to be.
In a solemn agreement after dinner, my wife and I, her sister and her husband made a pact which has been religiously honored from that day onward.:
“We won’t come to your house if you promise not to come to ours.”
# posted by Noonski @ 1:29 PM 
