I just love Christmas and can hardly wait until Thanksgiving when we put up the Christmas tree. I love all the colorfully wrapped packages that go under the tree and the lights that make the tree glow. I know not to bother any of the things hanging on the branches but I do like to look at it. I wish it could be up all year round.
My favorite thing about Christmas is the presents that appear on Thanksgiving Day. I think mom puts them there early to torture me and see if I can leave them alone until Christmas. I also like the sock reindeer that sits under the tree. I like to put him in his place everyday and let him know who is boss by biting his nose.
I try to be good but I am a lot like one of Mom’s friends (Molly) who couldn’t wait either. One year when she was young she had asked for an ID bracelet. One evening the devil got the better of her when she found the present. It was the right shape and size box and she had to know if it was the bracelet she’d asked for. So she opened it very carefully.
When her Mom got home she discovered the little box had been moved. Not only moved but it had been opened and re-taped. Like Molly I try to be good but the devil is always sitting on my shoulder when the Christmas packages go under the tree.
I check out all the packages when Mom places them under the tree and know which ones are mine. And then the trouble begins, the devil appears on my shoulder and I pick one, pull it out into the floor and push it around on the carpet.
Mom tells me it is not Christmas and I can’t have it yet. She grabs my package and puts it back under the tree. Then she shakes her finger at me and says, “Don’t open any of your packages until Christmas!” I look up at her and roll my big eyes and give her the innocent look and think to myself “Yeah, right mom!”
The next day while Mom is at work I pull the same package out from under the tree. This is the one that really intrigues me. I drag it into the middle of the floor and sit down beside it.
I start by pushing it around, then pick it up again and shake it. I can’t stand it anymore and I have to open it. I start by taking the ribbon off. Sometimes Mom tapes down the ribbon in several places but with a little effort I can get it off. Next I work on the paper. I get it loose at one of the corners and once there is enough to get hold of I rip it all the way to the other end of the box.
I’m not as careful as Molly; I just rip it since I will be found out anyway; mom will know immediately that I have opened it. I get the box open and pull out the tissue wrapped toy. It is exactly what I love to play with but I don’t play with it so I won’t mess it up; I just leave it by the box.
When Mom gets home from work she immediately discovers that I have opened the package. She picks up all the paper, tissue, the box and the toy and wraps it back up. She then places it back under the tree…….a little further back this time and then I am scolded again.
She shakes that finger at me and says, “It is not Christmas and you can’t have it yet. Do not open the package again!” I just look at her with my big brown eyes and give her the innocent look and think to my self: “Yeah, right Mom! I won’t open it again today…. but when you are gone tomorrow, I will open it. I love this game we play at Christmas.”
Every year it was the same; I was in trouble everyday. I couldn’t help myself and I would open the same package and every day I would get the same lecture from Mom. I think Mom secretly loved this game; she knew every night that I would have the package open again and I was in Christmas trouble again. She would point that finger, scold me and then laugh because she couldn’t stay mad at Tamara’s Precious Lady. To contact Mom: [email protected]
by Tamara Pugh
