Monday, December 20, 2010
Posted by Paula at 6:38 AM
Despite my recent descent into Grinchiness, Christmas is still my favorite day of the year, for all sorts of reasons. Primarily because of what it symbolizes to Christians like me, but also because it's a day to remember that loving each other matters and that giving is as much a blessing as receiving.
So, now that I have that bit of sappiness out of the way, let's get this party started!
I was thinking about some of the suggestions y'all gave me in the blog the other day, and one that stuck out for me was "most memorable Christmas gift."
I wish I had a poignant, dramatic answer for that question, but I really don't. When I was growing up, my family didn't have a lot of money, so while we never lacked for gifts, I wasn't likely to find a Trans-Am under the tree or anything. So I can't remember any big impact-making gift. Also, most of my most notable gifts came when I was a child, and I can't remember a lot from my childhood unless something triggers the memory.
I remember getting a little nursing uniform when I was about ten or eleven because at that time, I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up. I got dolls out the wazoo--I loved dolls back then, even though now, I don't have many maternal instincts--so I remember a few of those, including my first Baby Tenderlove and the year I got a "toddler" doll.
And speaking of triggered memories, that reminds me of a non-Christmas story from my childhood. My sister, my friend Woni and I were having a sleepover downstairs in the basement of the home where we lived when I was growing up. Also at the time, my sister and I had a pair of life-sized little girl dolls that were, roughly, about the size of my three-year-old brother, Dennis.
Anyway, the basement was nearly windowless and very dark at night, and we were about seven or eight years old at the time, a prime age to freak ourselves out completely. We had "gone to bed" at the time, which in sleepover language means, we were in bed but we were too giggly and excited to actually sleep, so we were talking. But Woni decided she needed to go to the bathroom, which was upstairs. So as she was heading upstairs to the bathroom, I heard her falter to a stop and say, in this freaked-out voice, "Dennis? Is that you?"
Suddenly, there was this big thump and Woni screamed her head off. One of us, either my sister or I, got up and turned on the lights to find Woni on the floor, wrestling with one of those big dolls. Apparently, she'd run into the doll in the dark, felt its hair and size and thought my little brother had sneaked down stairs to see what we were doing. When it fell on top of her, she thought she was under attack!
So, I guess that big two-year-old doll was my most memorable Christmas present, although it took a few months to reach its full memorability potential. ;)
Now it's your turn? Do you have a memorable Christmas gift, good or bad? Tell us all about it!