a Christmas memory, I shall always cherish, happened each Christmas eve. I and my brother were little kids (we whole heartedly believed in Santa Claus). there was a metal patch on the wall that covered the hole where the chimney would vent a wood burning stove that was no longer there. as it drew close to bed time, my dad would bang on that metal plate and say, "hey, did you hear that? sounds like somebody is on the roof. hope Santa doesn't see you guys are still up." with that announcement, my brother and I would leap from the living room, to our bedroom and dive under the covers.

this time of year brings back this fond memory to me and loving thoughts of my dear dad.

One thing I miss is everyone used to put their tree in a front room, in a window, so everyone could see. You knew there was Christmas in their house. I miss snooping under the tree, and looking at the tags on the gifts. By Christmas Eve, I knew who every gift was for. I miss the smiles on Mom and Dad, while they watched me on Christmas morning, finding what all Santa had left me.

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Wayne
Torn & Frayed

Nice story!

Over 25 years ago we were over my parents for Christmas Eve and could'nt convince our two oldest, who were something like 5 & 8 at the time, that we better get home so they could go to bed before Santa arrived.

That fall my Dad had shot a Moose and had the legs out in his garage and since I knew they had some old sleigh-bells out there hanging on the wall I came up with a plan.

It was snowing pretty hard and my parents had quite a few Christmas lights on outside so I had the perfect setting when I snuck out the back, went into the garage and grabbed two of the moose legs (lower halves), the sleigh-bells and a broom.

In the front yard I made the Reindeer tracks using you know what, the broom stick to simulate Sleigh tracks then got off to the side and shook the bells.

My wife played her part to the hilt inside and by the time I slipped in thru the back the kids wanted to know where I had been since we had to go, right now!!

When I asked why we had to leave in such a hurry they took me to the front window and explained who had been there and that they had to get home and go to bed!

To this day I can see our son walking around in the yard really checking out the tracks Santa left before turning to us and saying, we better hurry!!

Years ago, when all my nephews and nieces were still at the age of belief, or bordering disbelief, my younger brother and I cooked up a similar plan to Ogilvy.

Just before bedtime, uncle number one was on the roof stomping around on slick and icy surface. As their mom and dad raised the alarm about the noise, and while the kids were all running from window to window to door, I sneaked into the living room, and standing right in front of the fireplace, I threw a bunch of snow on top of my feet.

Well, you walk away, and there are two really good footprints on the floor, which, of course, we drew the kids attention to.

Not a peep from any of them. Jaws dropped, eyes as big as saucers, as mom led them off to bed, they were simply stunned.

It took them years to figure it out...and now they're doing it for the next generation of family kids.

Len

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Qui me amat, amet et canem meum

Great stories guys.
I was one of those that peaked into the presents and knew what everyone was getting. One year I wanted one of those football games where you lined up the players how you wanted them and then turned on the switch and the players would vibrate around until tackled by the other team or gained yardage toward a touchdown. Pretty neat game, I'd still play it if I had one.
Well, one year I had done my snooping and knew I was getting one. I could hardly wait. When the big day came and open my package inside the football game box was UNDERWEAR. I couldn't believe it, my family exploded in laughter as they were all in on the joke, the real game was in the kitchen, we played all day long. Great memory.

I had one of those football games. Hours of fun.

Most of my early Christmas celebrations were at my grandparents old farm house. On Christmas Eve, we had opened most presents, but yet to come were those one or two "extra special" presents that Santa would deliver before morning....and, of course, fill up our stockings. Lacking a fireplace, we hung our stockings from the jeweled glass door knobs on doors throughout the main floor. Then it was off to bed upstairs, trying to quell the excitement and wondering if morning would ever come. Of course, nervous bladders would require at least one trip to the downstairs bathroom during the night, and though we pledged not to look, there was always a sideways glance at the door knob to check the stockings and see if Santa had been there yet. The trip down stairs was inevitably followed by excited whispering and giggling, and we were sternly admonished to go to sleep. At some unearthly early hour, we would sail into our parents room, and pester them incessantly until we were allowed to thunder downstairs. Who can forget such classics as Lionel trains (which the grown-ups seemed to assume control of), slot car tracks, models, etc. Our Christmas no longer contains any of those giggling little kids in feet pajamas......and seems the poorer for it. Those who still have 'em - give 'em an extra hug and kiss and enjoy them while you have them. Merry Christmas!

Oh the joys of growing up as an American kid in the early 60's.
Least where I grew up everybody seemed to be doing OK. Mom's stayed home, Dad's worked.
Seemed that every family had 3 to 5 kids.
We kids had TV, telephones, and records. But most of our time was spent outside, playing ball, riding our bycicles, playing war, etc...

One thing that stands out in my memory is the: Sears Christmas Catolog. Everybody had one. Kid's studied these more than any text book.

Great memories.

Guy22

There can hardly be anything more exciting than trying out a new BB gun out back on Christmas morning. Whether it was yours, or many years later, your own youngun's.

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Ret'd LEO
SWCA #2275

Christmas eve 1969 , ambulance crew took my Mom away after a long illness (pancreatic cancer/cirrhosis of the liver). Early the next morning , we got the phone call with the news my mother had died. I was 9yrs old. Needless to say , it's not my favorite time of year.

The stories here are Exactly the kind to set your mood for Christmas.
Thanks for sharing, TACC1.

Back when I was kid, I received one present at Christmas. One year a bicycle, one year a Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun, Another year a pair of skates, etc.

Years later my #4 son wanted a Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun. His neighborhood buddy (Pat) wanted one too. Buddy's Mother (a good looking model) said NO -NO -NO!!!. Pat requested me to see if I could "charm " his Mother to allow him to receive a BB Gun also.
Many consider this "Jimmy's Finest Hour". I did "Charm" Pat's Mother to allow him to receive a BB Gun for Christmas.
Christmas Morning Pat is at the front door with his "Red Ryder" in hand. Pat and #4 Son goes into the back yard with their "Red Ryders". Before I got to the back yard one of the two "Test Shots" put a hole in Pat's Mother's kitchen window with Mrs. Foxie Model at the kitchen stove.
Suddenly I was by myself with two abandoned BB Guns at my feet and Pat's Mother looking at me from the "Holed" kitchen window. Then I heard "Jimmy Honey could I have a word with you, Darling?"
My Christmas morning was spent replacing the glass paine in a kitchen window.
The rest of Christmas #4 son and Pat stuck to my wife (Penny) like glue. One never saw such helper as those two.
#4 son's daughter and son received BB Guns from PaPa Jimmy last Christmas.

I was maby 11, and got to 'play Santa' i.e. pass out the wrapped presents from under the tree. dad said 'whats that behind the drapes'? It was a 20 ga. Winchester, I took it to him, knowing Mom had said I was too young for a shotgun. Dad had a big laugh, and explained 'Santa don't listen to Mothers'.
Best Christmas ever! (well except when my boy got his).
Merry Christmas
TB

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frontsightnsqueaz