30 Days of Writing - #25 - Worst Christmas Ever

Two years ago I wrote about the worst Christmas present ever. Some of you may have seen it then as part of a Tribal Blogs Blog Carnival. If you didn't, or can't recall it, sit back, relax and enjoy this little reprise.

Remember Ralphie in the movie A Christmas Story? His Aunt Clara sent him a bunny costume. Yeah, it sure sucked to be him.

Hey sometimes Christmas doesn't work out for some of us. Look at my grandsons last Christmas. Things went from this...

...to this...

Heh, heh. That's one picture my daughter doesn't want to share too widely. So keep quiet about it, okay?

When I was a kid, Christmas was such a special time. The snow outside, the tree, the lights, the food, visiting relatives and neighbours. And of course the presents.

My own kids loved Christmas too and would pore through the Sears Wish Book Catalogue as soon as it arrived in the mail, dog-earing pages upon pages of pictures of gifts they wanted for Christmas.

And they were pretty lucky. They usually got most of what they asked for. Today the grandkids are luckier than ever, although the twins last year had more fun with the boxes their presents came in than with the presents themselves.

Myself? Not so lucky. You know there should be a ban on certain items that parents get their kids for Christmas. Yeah, you know. The stores should stop selling certain things during the month of December.

When I was a kid I'd ask for a tricycle, or a wagon, or a Meccano set, or some such thing I'd have my heart set on.

I'd be up ahead of everyone else Christmas morning to see what Santa had left under the tree. I'd check out the name tags to see what presents were for me and I'd even shake a package or two to see if I could guess what was inside.

Slowly but surely the rest of the family would start to stir, and gather around the tree. I'd be so anxious I'd almost wet myself. C'mon guys, let's get going.

And then I'd be given the honour of opening the first gift. I'd tear the pretty bows and ribbon to shreds and rip off the wrapping paper to expose a medium sized box.

What the heck could it be? I hesitated. Was it the toy truck I'd asked for? Maybe it was a Davey Crocket hat - cool. I slowly lifted the lid of the box and peeked inside to see...sox and underwear!

"Um, ah, gee, guys, er, thanks a lot. It's, ah, just what I wanted."

And I must have sounded pretty sincere, because I got that same gift almost every year until I left home at the age of 20.

But I never ran out of sox...or underwear.

Just what he wanted?

Some of you may wonder why I haven't been around to your blogs lately or replied to comments on my posts last week. Well, I took the week off and went fishing. Yep, a week with no internet. No blog, No Facebook. No e-mail. It's taking me a day or two to recover you understand. But I've replied to all your comments and soon I'll be stopping by your blog. And tomorrow I'll tell you all about my little fishing trip. Remember the movie Deliverance? Yeah, it was nothing like that.

Meantime hit up Nicky's link thingy over at We Work For Cheese and see what everyone else's worst Christmas was like.